The Journey Continues
by uniquelyjas
Summary: Original MacGyver! Sequel to 'Continuum'. Ch. 1 provides summary for new and returning readers. Join Mac as he continues to explore life, love, and adventure with the help of old friends and new!
1. Reflections

_**A/N: Welcome to new and returning readers! If you would like to read in-depth about the experiences referenced in the beginning of this chapter, please message me and I will tell you which chapters in Continuum to read. Otherwise...enjoy the journey and please feel free to provide feedback...it keeps Mac and me motivated!**_

 **Reflections**

The wipers slapped the winter rain from the Jeep's windshield as MacGyver headed west to Los Angeles. It had been less than twenty hours since Francine Dalton, Jack's mother, had called on Christmas Night to tell Mac that Jack had crashed his plane and was in the hospital in critical condition. Unable to get an immediate flight, MacGyver had quickly packed his well-used duffle and began driving. With the exception of quick layovers at roadside truck stops to grab a bite to eat and catch a little shut eye, Mac had been driving for fifteen hours straight, avoiding the predicted snowstorm. At this rate, he should arrive in L.A. sometime tomorrow. Hopefully he wouldn't be too late.

In an effort to stay alert behind the wheel, MacGyver chugged coffee, which he hated, tuned the radio to a rock station, which he tolerated, and reflected on the incredible changes the past two years had brought him. Twenty-four months ago he and Sam had returned to his Los Angeles apartment after a couple years touring the west coast on their motorcycles. Mac's dream of settling down with his son was shattered when Sam announced he was leaving for a photojournalist position in the Middle East. Mac had not liked this decision, but he refused to clip his son's wings. It proved to be a good choice on Sam's part as he was now based with a London news agency but still traveled to far and dangerous lands to cover stories no one else was willing to tell. He and MacGyver kept in touch through frequent letters and phone calls and the occasional visit when Sam could take extended time off.

On his own once again, MacGyver rejoined the Phoenix Foundation, but new physical criteria for field operatives had been put in place and he could not pass the concussion protocol. He had escaped dreaded desk duty when Pete Thornton assigned him to be the security advisor at Challengers Academy, an off-shoot of the original Challengers Club, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Originally meant to be a temporary assignment, Mac ended up falling in love with the school, the city, and the pretty education director who could go from sweet to sassy in the blink of an eye. After sustaining two more head injuries, he had to face the fact that he would never pass Phoenix's concussion protocol, so he submitted his resignation and worked full-time at Challengers until the funding for the non-profit school had been pulled seven months ago. Fortunately, a lawyer friend was quick to hire Mac to work in a number of different roles including security and investigation. Said friend had recently married and retired, leaving the firm in the capable hands of his protégé, Carlos Hernandez.

As MacGyver's professional life evolved, he found his personal life to be in flux as well. Upon leaving Phoenix he also had to leave the apartment the Foundation had provided him. With a little help, he quickly found a duplex that was almost an exact replica of the house boat he had lost to a fire several years earlier. Pete, who was now completely blind, was transferred to the Phoenix Foundation Satellite Office in Chicago. Pete remarried his ex-wife, Connie, and retired soon after. MacGyver had also discovered that he had inherited his Grandpa Harry's cabin in Northern Minnesota after the friend it had originally been willed to passed away. It was while he was staying at this cabin that Murdoc resurfaced in his life, only to be killed in the most mundane and avoidable way. Even though bitter enemies, Mac's humanity caused him to grieve for his nemesis to this day. As if he needed yet more change in his life, Frank Colton came to town and convinced MacGyver to adopt Frog, the Colton family's aging, overweight, slobbery bull dog.

And then there was Joanna Fairfax, the director of education at Challengers Academy who had also made the transition to the law firm in the research division. His heart beat a little faster each time he thought of her. MacGyver would readily admit a part of him fell in love with her the first time he saw her standing on a rickety old stool in high heels, decorating a bulletin board. She had lost her balance and literally fell into his arms. Of average height with shiny brown hair cut in a classic bob and eyes like melted chocolate, she was the quintessential girl-next-door and she affected MacGyver like no other woman on the planet. Unfortunately, their mutual lack of trust and fear of commitment caused them to get off to a rocky start. And if he were truly honest, they still had times of turbulence. Jo was as innocent and sheltered as Mac was experience and well-traveled. At first glance, they might appear to be the most unlikely couple. But after forging a strong friendship over pizza and air hockey games, they finally allowed themselves to explore their deepening feelings further and MacGyver had been on the verge of, hopefully, changing both their lives forever when his cell phone rang, causing him to head back to California in the middle of the night.

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After a sleepless night waiting to hear from MacGyver, Joanna got up early the day after Christmas and called in sick to work. She couldn't ever remember doing such a thing, but then again, she had found herself doing a lot of unusual things since Mac had come into her life. Just before leaving for L.A. MacGyver had asked her to take care of Frog. She planned on packing up his stuff and bringing him to the house she shared with her parents since it sounded like Mac would be gone for a while. Then she planned on taking a long nap whether or not she heard from MacGyver. She was just finishing her breakfast when the ringing of the telephone interrupted her thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. I tried calling you at work. Why are you still home?" Finally a call from Mac. Joanna let out a relieved sigh.

"I decided to take a sick day."

"Are you okay?" Concern colored Mac's voice.

"I'm fine. Just wanted some time to myself."

Joanna could practically see MacGyver's eyebrows shoot up and touch his long, blond bangs. This was a very non-Joanna-like thing to do.

"Well, I just wanted to check in and let you know I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere."

"Good to know," Joanna replied, hoping the sarcasm would hide her concern and subsequent relief.

"Listen, about last night," Mac began. "I'm really sorry about bailing on you like that. It's just that when I heard about Jack, I—"

"It's okay," Jo cut in. "I get it. Just take care of yourself and say 'Hi' to Jack for me." Joanna had only met the infamous Jake Dalton once, but it was clear he and Mac were more than friends. They were like brothers.

"Count on it," MacGyver replied. "I'll call again soon. Love you."

Before Joanna could reply the line went dead. Her jaw dropped. Had he just said he loved her?! Though she was pretty sure she had fallen for him when he put his strong hands on her waist to keep her from falling off that stupid stool, and she was cautiously optimistic that he had similar feelings for her if his toe-curling kisses were any indication, neither one of them had actually come out and put a name to their feelings. But Mac just had. From hundreds of miles away and over the phone line. Insufferable man!

Later that morning, Jo pulled her Chevy coupe into MacGyver's driveway. She could hear Frog whining mournfully before she got to the door. She knew that Mac would have given him plenty of food and fresh water, yet the hound suffered separation anxiety whenever his master disappeared. Using the spare key MacGyver had given her months earlier, she opened the front door and crouched down to fondle Frog's ears before gathering his necessities and clipping the lead to his collar. Before heading toward the car, Joanna stepped next door and rang the bell. It was a few minutes before Mac's landlord answered.

"Hi Mr. Rainey," she greeted him as he eased open the door.

"Well, hello Joanna. And you know it's Charlie!" The elderly man's mocking scold caused her to blush slightly.

"I just wanted to let you know that MacGyver will be out of town for a while so I'm taking Frog home with me."

"Thank goodness! That pitiful animal moaned all night long and then I woke up to find two month's rent slid under my door. What's going on with that guy of yours anyway?"

" _MacGyver_ is headed to Los Angeles. His best friend was in a bad accident and he doesn't know how long he'll be gone."

"Oh, that poor boy," Charlie shook his head sadly. "Make sure you let him know I'm thinking of him and his friend."

"Will do," Joanna promised as she turned and led Frog to the car.

After returning home, Joanna watched as Frog inspected every nook and cranny of his new, albeit temporary, home with grunts and snuffles before lying down on the hockey jersey that lay puddled on her bedroom floor. The same jersey Mac had gifted her with the night before. She had frowned in disappointment when she noticed the name placard had been left blank, lacking the personalization all _his_ jerseys had. She recalled him becoming oddly uncomfortable as he tried to ask her something about it, but his ringing cell phone and the ensuing news quickly put an end to any question he had. Suddenly feeling tired and incredibly alone, Joanna pushed Frog off the jersey, slipped it on over her sweater, crawled into bed with her knees practically tucked up to her chin, and promptly fell asleep.


	2. Jack's Close Encounter

**Jack's Close Encounter**

It was late afternoon on December twenty-seventh when MacGyver maneuvered his Jeep into a parking space in front of a prominent Los Angeles hospital. Hair mussed, clothes rumpled, dead tired, and smelling like a monkey cage, he eased out of the vehicle and headed for the main entrance. A shower and sleep would have to wait. First, he had to see Jack.

The hospital room was dimly lit, but MacGyver could make out a sophisticated, middle-aged, blonde woman sitting in a chair next to the bed paging through a magazine. Mac stood in the doorway and cleared his throat.

"MacGyver!" Francine Dalton exclaimed. "Thank you so much for coming!"

She quickly rose from the chair, skirted the edge of the bed, and embraced Mac in a motherly hug before holding him at arm's length.

"My, you're a bit of a mess, aren't you?" she observed.

"Um, yeah," he agreed sheepishly before turning his attention to Jack.

His friend lay flat on the bed, his pale face blending in with the sheets. His right arm and left leg in plaster casts.

"How is he?" MacGyver asked softly as Francine led him into the room.

"Better, actually," she answered, a lightness in her voice that hadn't been there when he had initially spoken to her. "Thankfully he doesn't have any internal injuries and this morning he woke up briefly for the first time since the accident. They're keeping him on pain meds and sedatives, so he'll be out for a while, but the doctors are optimistic that he'll make a full recovery."

"What happened?" Mac asked softly as he grabbed a second chair and sat down beside Francine.

Jack's mom shrugged her shoulders. "All I was told was that he had been returning to L.A. after delivering a load of toys to a Mexican orphanage and crashed outside the city. As you can see, he has a broken arm and leg as well as broken ribs and a concussion."

MacGyver studied his once jovial friend now lying expressionless as he tried to process the information Francine had just given him. Unfortunately, this new knowledge just led to more questions. Was Jack's trip truly just an innocent flight to deliver toys or part of a larger scheme? And how did the plane crash? Something had to have gone wrong, but what?

"Why don't you go clean yourself up and get some rest," Francine suggested, patting Mac on the shoulder. "The doctor said he's going to keep Jack sedated for at least twenty-four more hours. Do you have a place to stay?"

"Where's Jack livin' these days?"

The blonde woman sighed. "He's been living out of his office at the hangar."

"Then that's where I'll be," Mac declared. He leaned in to give Francine a kiss on the cheek before standing to leave. "You'll call if anything changes?"

"You'll be the first to know," she assured him with a small smile.

XXXXX

It was evening by the time MacGyver pulled his Jeep into the empty hangar at a small municipal airport. He pulled his duffle from the backseat and made his way to Jack's office. A scarred wooden desk, straight-back chair, and old Army cot greeted him along with a coffee pot and hot plate.

"Home sweet home," he mumbled, dropping his bag next to the desk.

His body yearned to rest on the cot, if only for a few minutes, but Mac knew his overactive brain would just keep him awake. Something about Jack's accident wasn't sitting right with him, and he needed to find out why. Sitting down behind the desk, MacGyver shuffled the papers that haphazardly covered the surface. It wasn't long before a bill of sale and a loan application caught his eye. Mac grabbed the papers for a closer look. According to the bill of sale, sporting Jack's signature, his friend had just bought a very expensive, well-appointed Cessna. MacGyver frowned. Even if Jack used his life's savings and lived out of this grungy hangar for the next hundred years he still couldn't afford a plane like this. Mac's attention quickly turned to the loan application. The amount listed made his jaw drop. He skimmed through the legal mumbo jumbo until he got to the bottom line and the co-signer: Francine Leyland Dalton. Apparently there had been a lot of familial bonding over the past few years for Francine to put her name on a hefty loan for the son she had abandoned as a baby.

The words of the document began to blur and MacGyver suppressed a yawn. He had been awake for the better part of three days and, during that time, had driven two thousand miles. The cot in the corner was calling his name, and this time it was impossible to resist. He spread out, fully clothed on the makeshift bed.

"Oh, Jack, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" he mumbled before sleep quickly claimed him.

XXXXX

MacGyver arrived at the hospital early the next morning clean and well-rested. As he stepped off the elevator, he saw Francine and a well-dressed middle-aged man talking animatedly outside Jack's room. He automatically quickened his pace.

"Whoa, what's going on here?" he asked, coming to stand next to Francine.

"MacGyver, meet my lawyer, Robert Littelmann," she said disgustedly.

The two men sized each other up before hesitantly shaking hands.

"Nice to meet you," Mac offered.

"Same here," replied Robert.

Francine crossed her arms and glared at the attorney.

"Mr. Littelmann has just informed me that the NTSB has concluded their investigation of Jack's accident and ruled it pilot error. We won't get enough insurance money to even cover the loan," she huffed

"Wait a minute," MacGyver replied, shaking his head. "It's only been a couple days. You can't tell me that they closed the investigation already."

"They said it was an open and shut case," Littelmann explained.

"There's no way it's Jack's fault," Francine insisted. "He's an excellent pilot."

"Look," Robert pleaded. "It was late, he was tired, even the best make mistakes."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Mrs. Dalton on this one," Mac spoke up. "As much as it pains me to say it, Jack is too good of a pilot to lose a plane without extenuating circumstances. That man could land a sardine can on the Hollywood Freeway in the middle of rush hour if he had to. I suggest you reopen the case."

"I'm sorry, Mr. MacGyver, but that is beyond my control," Littelmann replied firmly.

"All right, how about if I take a look at it, unofficially? Maybe I can find something the government boys overlooked," Mac asked.

"You can't. They've already cleared the scene."

"What?!" Mac exclaimed loudly, earning himself a scolding look from the nurse at her station three doors away. "And who are 'they'?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Mr. Dalton's plane crashed on the outskirts of an Air Force base. The plane, such as it is, is now property of the United States Military. I'm sorry, but as I said before, the case is closed."

With that, Robert Littelmann turned and walked toward the elevators.

"They're wrong, Mac," Francine seethed.

"I know they are," he agreed. "Why don't you check on Jack while I make a phone call."

MacGyver headed to the small lounge at the end of the corridor. Thankfully it was empty. He plunked a coin into the pay phone and dialed the number he had used so frequently when he worked for Phoenix."

"Phoenix Foundation, Willis speaking."

"Hey Willis! It's MacGyver! How you doin'?"

"Mac?! I can't believe it! Are you back with the Foundation?"

"Not really, but I'm working on something and need some information. Think you can help?"

"I don't know…" Willis hedged.

"Aw, c'mon! For old time's sake?"

"All right," Willis relented. "What do you need?"

MacGyver rattled off a list of reports related to Jack's accident.

"Think you can manage that?" he asked.

"I'll do my best."

"Great. I'll swing by later this afternoon."

In the meantime, Mac had some questions for Francine. He made his way back to Jack's room and once again claimed the chair beside her.

"I was going through some of Jack's things," MacGyver began. "That's a pretty expensive plane you helped him buy."

"So? Can't a mother help out her son?!" she replied defensively.

"Of course," Mac soothed her. "But Jack is the king of bargain basement cargo aircraft. Even you have to admit this Cessna was way out of his league."

Francine sighed. "Jack wanted to start a new venture. Dalton Air Limo Service. You know, shuttle overpaid CEO's back and forth across the state, country or wherever they pay him to go. He came to me with a solid business plan. I had Littelmann look it over and he said it was a good investment." Here she paused. "He had flights booked beginning next week. Now we have no plane, no pilot, no nothing."

"Maybe not," MacGyver mused. He could feel himself getting tangled up in Jack's business again, but this time it seemed legit and deserved a fighting chance.

"What are you thinking?" Francine interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm not sure, but I might have a plan."

XXXXX

It felt weird using the visitors' entrance, signing in, and clipping on a temporary ID badge.

"Do you need an escort, sir?" the young security guard asked.

"No, I think I can find my way," MacGyver replied with a smile.

Within minutes, Mac was standing in front of the door to the lab watching as Willis intently studied something under a microscope. Some things never changed. Mac tapped lightly on the glass to announce his presence before entering the room.

Willis looked up and soon he and MacGyver were vigorously shaking hands.

"It's great to see you again Mac! C'mon in and have a seat."

Willis led MacGyver to his desk.

"Did you get the stuff I asked for?"

"Yep," he nodded toward a stack of files. "But I'll save you some time. The NTSB ruled pilot error. There were no records or reports of any bad weather in the area and an appropriate flight plan was filed."

Willis frowned at his last statement.

"What is it?" Mac asked.

"According to Dalton's flight plan, he was several miles off course and strayed into restricted air space. An experienced pilot would never do that."

"So you're saying something must have happened to take him off course."

"I'm no expert, but it looks that way."

"Was there a cockpit recorder or anything?" Mac asked in desperation.

"No. Planes that size are not required to have one. And I couldn't find any radio communication either."

"So we have no way of knowing what really happened," MacGyver sighed.

"Jack's the only one who knows, and even if he wakes up and remembers it'll be his word against the government's."

MacGyver jammed his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Mind if I take these files with me?"

"Be my guest."

As Mac reached to grab the files, he accidentally knocked over a picture frame.

"Sorry Willis," he said as he picked up the frame. A pretty redhead looked back at him. "Who's this?"

"My wife," Willis replied with a wide grin.

"You're married?!"

"Yep, going on two years now. Listen MacGyver, don't pay attention to what other guys say. Marriage is great! I highly recommend it. You bachelors don't know what you're missing out on!"

Mac simply nodded as thoughts of Joanna suddenly slammed into his brain. He hadn't called her since before he arrived in Los Angeles.

"Mind if I use your phone?" he asked.

"Go right ahead. Need to check in with a special someone?"

"Something like that," MacGyver muttered as he dialed Jo's office number.

She answered on the second ring.

"Hey, it's me," Mac said, cutting her off in the middle of her formal greeting.

"Oh, hi Mac," she replied, still using her professional voice.

"I'm sorry I haven't called, but things got kinda busy here."

"No problem. How's Jack?" she asked in a clipped tone.

"He's gonna be fine."

"That's good."

"I promise I'll call you soon with all the details."

"Sounds good."

"Okay, I'll talk to you later then." MacGyver hung up the phone, a sense of uneasiness settling into the pit of his stomach. Joanna had sounded cold and distant…because of him?

That night, after checking on Francine and Jack, Mac laid on the old cot and stared at the ceiling, replaying his conversation with Joanna in his head. Maybe he should have let her come along. He always felt better when she was with him. Then he considered what Willis had said and promised himself that he'd make things right with Jo as soon as he got home.

XXXXX

MacGyver spent the following morning studying the reports Willis had given him. Nothing made sense. When he arrived at the hospital, he found Jack sitting up in bed chatting with his mom.

"You sure bounce back fast," Mac observed from the doorway.

"Mi amigo! Enter! Enter!" Jack urged.

MacGyver walked over to his friend's bed, a huge smile on his face.

"Nice accessory," he commented, motioning to the aviator hat Jack wore.

"Why thank you, my boy! Felt downright naked without it! I'm glad it didn't get lost in the wreck."

"Speaking of the wreck, do you remember anything about it?"

"Remember _anything_? Mac, I remember _everything_! It was incredible! I've never seen anything like it before in my life!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The UFO!"

MacGyver shook his head. Surely he hadn't heard right. "UFO?"

"It was beautiful! All the lights and—"

"Whoa, back up," Mac commanded. "Are you saying a UFO caused your plane to crash?"

Jack nodded emphatically. "I know you don't believe in that stuff, but I saw it Mac. I really saw it!"

"Why don't you start from the beginning," MacGyver prompted as he sat down in the chair next to the bed. "What happened after you left the orphanage?"

"The flight was as smooth as a baby's bottom. Couldn't ask for better conditions. I was in the homestretch when all of a sudden everything conked out. The engine, electrical system, the works. The plane was just floating, like a giant hang glider, when I saw the lights."

"The lights?"

"Of the UFO! Lit up the night sky like a Christmas tree and just hovered there in front of me. I gotta tell ya, Mac, I was scared those aliens were gonna suck my brains out or something!"

"Hold it, Jack! There's no such thing as aliens, and even if there were, what would they want with _your_ brain?!"

At MacGyver's remark, Francine, who had been silently listening to the conversation, covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.

"Maaa!" Jack whined.

"I'm sorry, dear, but MacGyver does have a point."

"Okay," Mac interrupted, trying to get back on track. "What happened next?"

"It flew away. Fast. Like warp nine fast and everything went dark. I could feel the plane losing altitude but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Next thing I know I wake up here."

Mac stayed silent as he struggled to make sense of what he just heard. Electrical and engine failure could certainly have caused Jack to drift into military airspace, and he could have easily mistaken another aircraft for a UFO if he was tired.

"You do believe me, don't you Kemosabe? I swear I'm not making this up!"

MacGyver had been keeping tabs on his friend's left eye as he told his story and it hadn't twitched once.

"I believe that something happened to your plane, and I believe that you saw something. But it _wasn't_ a UFO."

"Then what was it?" Jack challenged.

"I don't know," Mac replied thoughtfully. "But I'm gonna find out."

As soon as he arrived back at the hangar, MacGyver placed another call to Willis asking for more specific information. Then he called Joanna and related everything he had learned.

"You certainly don't believe Jack's story, do you?" he asked.

"I want to believe," she responded solemnly, but he could hear the laughter she tried to hold back in her voice.

"You're not still hooked on that TV show with those two FBI agents chasing flying saucers, are you?"

This time Joanna did laugh. "Guilty as charged! But really, Mac, it's all in good fun. However, you do have to wonder…"

"That's my cue to hang up!"

"Listen Mac," Jo turned somber. "I'm sorry I was kinda short with you earlier and I'm really glad to hear Jack is doing better."

"No problem. I'm sorry for bailing on you like I did. Especially during the holidays. I'll call back soon, I promise."

MacGyver hung up the phone, his conscience feeling lighter. Joanna had sounded like her normal self again. And he missed her terribly.

XXXXX

The ringing telephone woke MacGyver before dawn. He tumbled off the cot and grabbed it mumbling a half-awake "Hello".

"It's Willis. I have some information I think you'll find interesting."

"Great, let's have it!" Mac was wide awake now.

"Not over the phone. Meet me at Rosie's Diner in thirty minutes." The line went dead.

MacGyver stared at the telephone. What was up with all this cloak and dagger stuff? Were all his friends going nuts? He put on his shoes and headed to Rosie's.

"Whatcha got?" he asked as he slid into the booth across from Willis.

The researcher pulled out a large, brown envelope from underneath his jacket. MacGyver rolled his eyes.

"Your friend's plane was found on the Air Force base where the Space and Missile Systems Center is located." Here he stopped, as if it was supposed to mean something.

"Sooo?" Mac asked, his patience wearing thin.

"So, I managed to hack into their computers enough to find records of recent tests and activities. On Christmas Eve, a high tech satellite was launched from there shortly before Jack's plane went haywire. It must have passed close enough to interfere with the plane's systems."

"Okay, I'll buy that. But what about the lights Jack said he saw?"

"Transcripts show that his plane was picked up on radar as an unidentified aircraft. A military chopper was sent up to intercept it."

"And…?" MacGyver prompted.

"And, that's all the information I could get."

"But Jack said the lights, um chopper, flew off. Why would the pilots abandon a plane in distress?"

Willis shrugged. "I don't know. Like I said, this was all the info I could get."

"I understand," Mac replied. "But next time could we just meet in the lab like usual?"

"You got it," Willis laughed as he slid out of the booth and left the diner.

MacGyver entered Jack's hospital room to find a tall, fit man with short brown hair wearing a dark suit and tie standing at the head of his friend's bed as said friend waved his uninjured arm in the air as he spoke.

"Hey, Mac!" Jack interrupted himself. "This is Agent Millder, uhhh, Muller, er, Mildew?"

"He's from the FBI," Francine informed him in a loud whisper.

"No kidding?" Mac replied cynically before Jack started speaking to him.

"The G-Man here wants to know about my close encounter!" Jack excitedly explained. "He said there were dozens of reports of UFO's in Southern California on Christmas Eve!"

"Actually, most claims turned out to be alleged sightings of Rudolph instead," the agent replied drily.

"You don't really believe Jack saw a UFO, do you?"

"No, I don't," Millder/Muller/Mildew said evenly.

"You don't?!" Jack deflated in front of MacGyver's eyes.

"No, sir. I believe you accidently came upon a secret military exercise that interfered with your plane's electrical system and you drifted into restricted airspace before crashing."

"I've been doing some investigating myself," Mac asserted. "It seems a military chopper intercepted my friend's disabled plane and then deserted him. Why?"

"I don't know, but I promise you, the truth is out there."

XXXXX

"You know, Mac, you don't have to babysit me. I can take care of myself. Better yet, that pretty blonde nurse on the nightshift can take of me," Jack waggled his eyebrows and smiled as MacGyver offered his friend another spoonful of Jell-O.

"I'm not 'babysitting' you, I'm spending some quality time with my best friend," MacGyver retorted.

"Yeah, by force feeding me that vile green stuff only hospitals serve…and maybe you. But it's New Year's Eve! You should go out! Eat, drink, be merry!"

Mac glanced sideways at his friend.

"Oh, that's right. You don't drink and you frown on merriment, but you can still eat!"

"That's enough, Jack," MacGyver replied with fake annoyance. "I'm exactly where I want to be." Sort of.

Mac glanced down at his watch. It was a little before ten. Almost midnight in the Midwest. He stood up and headed for the door.

"I'm going down to the lounge and make a quick phone call," he told Jack.

"Give her my regards!"

"Who?" Mac asked, snapping his head around.

"Joanna, of course. That's who you're calling, right?"

"How do you know?"

"C'mon Mac, you've been hot for her for almost two years now. I saw it with my own eyes at Pete's wedding, or was it a re-wedding?"

"Shut up, Jack. You have no idea what's going on between me and Joanna."

"Aha! So there _is_ something going on between you two," Jack smiled looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.

MacGyver groaned. Why did he keep letting himself get caught in Jack's verbal traps!

Minutes later, Jack was forgotten as MacGyver happily chatted with Joanna. In the background he soon heard the tinny strains of Auld Lang Syne coming from her television. He ached to hold her and kiss her senseless as the old year passed away and the new one entered. Unfortunately, words would have to do this time.

"Happy New Year," he said into the telephone, his voice husky. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Happy 1997, Mac. Love you." The line went dead.

MacGyver stared at the receiver in his hand and was glad he was already in a hospital because he felt as if his heart was about to pound out of his chest. Joanna had just said she loved him!


	3. Second Thoughts

**Second Thoughts**

MacGyver felt like he was walking on air as he headed back to Jack's room. He didn't even bother to try and hide the goofy grin he must be wearing. Joanna had just confirmed his greatest hope. He couldn't wait to get back to Milwaukee. Back to her.

"Wow, that must have been one heck of a phone call," Jack observed when Mac returned. "Or did that cute little nurse give you her number?"

"It's none of your business, Jack," Mac replied, trying to keep the frustration with his friend out of his voice.

"You wound me, compadre! Since when do we keep secrets from each other?"

Mac's jaw went slack. How many times had Jack told him half-truths or downright lies to get him to go along with a crazy scheme?

"Fine!" Mac sat down in his chair, jamming his fingers through his hair. "Joanna just said she loved me."

Jack's happy-go-lucky expression quickly faded. "Aw man, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? Why?"

"I'm sure Joanna's a great girl to hang out with, but now you're gonna break her heart."

"I am?"

"Earth to Mac! After love comes commitment and we both know you can't do _that_! You need to set that girl straight. Pronto!"

"You don't get it, Jack. I was in the middle of proposing to her when your mom called and told me about your accident."

"Proposing? As in marriage?!" Jack's eyes grew so wide Mac thought they might fall out of their sockets. "Lucky Mom called you when she did! Guys like you and me need to be free, go where life takes us, not get tied down with a wife, two point five kids, and a nine-to-five job!"

"You may still need that, but I'm done living like a nomad. I want to settle down. Put down real roots. And I want to do it with Joanna."

"All right, man. If that's what you want," Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's it?" Mac asked suspiciously. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it?"

"Nope," Jack replied smugly. "I'll let your commitment-phobic DNA do it for me."

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Two days later, Jack was released from the hospital into Francine's care. MacGyver had called in a few favors and pulled some strings to get access to a private plane so he could fulfill the reservations Jack had scheduled before the crash. He had forgotten how much he loved flying. The freedom he felt when it was just him and the big blue sky, all concerns and obligations anchored firmly to the ground where they couldn't reach him. In an effort to keep Jack's dream alive, MacGyver continued to book and pilot flights in the hopes of raising enough money so Jack could take out a loan and make a down payment on a new plane.

With Jack making steady progress in his recovery and no flights booked for the day, Mac decided to stop by the Challengers Club. He wondered if anyone, with the exception of Hines, would remember him. He walked through the door and into the controlled chaos that was the teen youth center and shelter service.

"MacGyver?! As I live and breathe is that you?!"

Mac turned toward the familiar voice. "Hey Cynthia! How're you doin'?"

The spunky, African-American woman ran into his open arms and embraced him warmly.

"What brings you back to Los Angeles?"

"I'm helpin' out a friend who had a little accident," Mac replied casually. "A better question is what are _you_ doin' back at Challengers?"

Cynthia laughed. "Hines is out of town for the holidays and you know I just can't stay away from these kids. Not to mention that this time of year we are always overcrowded and understaffed. I don't suppose you'd be willing to stick around and help out a bit while you're here?"

"What do you need me to do, Cynthia?" Mac asked with a grin.

"Well, since you asked…" She reached into the pocket of her sweater, pulled out a list and handed it to MacGyver.

Mac laughed. "Okay, I'm on it!"

The next several days passed quickly for MacGyver. When he wasn't flying charters he was either helping out at Challengers or visiting with Jack and Francine. When he had resigned from Phoenix, Mac had sworn he would never again call L.A. home, yet here he was, slipping back into aspects of his old life that fit like a well-worn pair of jeans. He thought back to Jack's words in the hospital on New Year's Eve. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps guys like him and Jack weren't meant to stay in one place too long regardless of who or what they left behind.

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The day after New Year's Joanna arrived at work to find the office abuzz, her colleagues already working in high gear.

"Hey, what's going on?" Joanna asked, snagging Mike Harlow's arm as he hurried past her.

"Emergency meeting in five minutes," he replied. "And I wouldn't be late if I were you."

Five minutes later Joanna found herself scrunched next to her co-workers in a small conference room. Their new boss, Carlos Hernandez, stepped to the front and asked for silence.

"Welcome back, people," he began. "Just as the first snowfall brings a ton of accident cases, the new year brings a blizzard of divorce petitions. That being said, I'm going to need extra hands on these cases."

Carlos read the list of paralegals, assistants, and investigators who would now be assigned to familial law. Joanna's and Mike's names were both called.

"And Mike," Carlos added, "Since MacGyver is still on vacation, why don't you use his office. It'll make it easier for you and Ms. Fairfax to tag team if needed."

Joanna's hackles raised, but she stayed quiet. Granted, she hadn't been looking forward to spending her days next to Mac's empty room, but she certainly didn't want someone else claiming the space instead! Mac _was_ coming back, after all. Wasn't he?

"I hope you don't mind." Mike's voice broke into Jo's thoughts.

"Of course not," she responded politely before heading back to her own office.

The following week flew by as Joanna interviewed disgruntled husbands and wives. Their reasons for ending their marriage ranged from the mundane to the ridiculous. Like the woman whose husband had been leaving the toilet seat up for the last thirty years and suddenly she decided she couldn't take it anymore.

By the time Friday rolled around, Joanna was dead on her feet. Not only had she been working solid eight to ten hour days with barely a break for lunch, but MacGyver had been calling her almost every night. Unfortunately, he seemed unaware of the time difference and often kept her up late talking about anything and everything, but she didn't care. The sound of his voice soothed her and when she did sleep, she dreamed of him.

As the short January days melded together, Joanna found herself becoming depressed. She blamed it on working too much and listening to people complain about their soon-to-be ex-mates all day long, but in truth, many of their issues hit home and had her questioning the strength of her relationship with MacGyver. For example, there was the couple who had met at work and had never actually dated before getting married. Then there was the wife who complained that her husband didn't share any of her hobbies and the couple who didn't marry until they were in their fifties and found they could not stand living with and sharing their life with the other person. Last but not least were the number of couples who complained about the lack of communication in their marriage. Joanna's stomach clenched. If these relationships were any indication, she and Mac didn't stand a chance. They had met at work and their one attempt at a real date had failed miserably. Joanna's hobbies included reading and knitting while MacGyver enjoyed playing hockey and outdoor activities. Plus, they had both been single a long time. While Jo shared a house with her parents, could she stand to be in constant close proximity to Mac and him to her? To top it off, his phone calls were now few and far between. And when they did talk, they were hard pressed to talk about something other than the weather and latest sports scores. Logic told her he was just busy and preoccupied getting Jack's business up and running while also helping out at Challengers, but her heart feared he had grown bored with her since getting a taste of his old life where she did not belong.

One Tuesday afternoon Joanna sat surrounded by stacks of files furiously entering data into her computer when a knock on her door startled her.

"Sorry," Mike apologized. "You wouldn't happen to know the password to MacGyver's computer, would you?"

"No," she shook her head. "You've been working in there all this time and haven't been able to use the computer?"

"I've been using the firm's laptop. It just crashed."

"Oh. Let me see what I can do."

Joanna knew Mac's password wouldn't be complicated, it would just be odd. Something only the people closest to him would know. She sat down behind his desk and started typing. She hoped she didn't blush when she punched in her name. She held her breath and then exhaled in disappointment when access was denied. So she began the litany of names he might use: Pete, Jack, Frog, Phoenix, Duct Tape. Nothing worked. She was about to give up when she had a sudden notion. Slowly she hit the keys: A-n-g-u-s. Bingo! The computer screen sprang to life.

"Excellent!" Mike exclaimed. "Hey, how about we go out to dinner tonight?"

He must have seen the surprise on her face as he continued, "We've both been working hard and deserve a break. Besides, I'd like to get to know you better, outside of this place."

Was he asking her out on a date? Did she want to go?

"C'mon," he urged, sensing her reluctance. "We gotta eat, right?"

"Of course," Jo replied, finally finding her voice. "I'd love to."

A few hours later she found herself seated across from Mike at her favorite Italian restaurant surreptitiously studying his features. His dark brown hair was cut in a short, neat style that accentuated his bright blue eyes that lit up when he spoke of his small but loving family. As they shared stories about themselves, she learned he had lived in Milwaukee his entire life and had once turned down a lucrative job offer because it involved too much travel and time away from home. He possessed an easy sense of humor, a warm smile and, even though he had been in his suit for over twelve hours, not once did he reach up to loosen the knot in his tie. Now _this_ was the type of guy she always imagined herself falling for. Yet when she crawled into bed that night and closed her eyes, the only face she saw was MacGyver's as a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

The next morning, Carlos was waiting for Joanna outside her office. He waved a piece of paper in front of her face as she approached.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked.

"No, sir," Joanna said softly, taken aback by her boss's behavior.

" _This_ is yet another request for an extension to MacGyver's leave of absence! How long does he plan on being gone? Doesn't he realize that if he wants to keep his job he needs to show up once in a while?!"

Carlos was fairly yelling now and Joanna didn't have an answer for him, but she promised she would speak to Mac about it when she got a chance.

Once ensconced behind her desk, Jo eyed her phone and the number Mac had given her in case she needed to contact him. She glanced at her watch. It was still early morning in L.A. so perhaps he hadn't started his day yet. She dialed the number and was surprised when he answered on only the second ring.

"Hi! It's me," she greeted him, hoping she sounded somewhat upbeat.

"Jo? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," she replied automatically before backpedaling. "Well, actually, no. Carlos is pretty upset that you asked to extend your leave. Do you have any idea when you might be coming home?"

There was a long silence before he spoke. "I really can't say. Business is picking up but Jack's still not ready to fly and Challengers needs all the help it can get right now."

"I understand, but I don't think Carlos will. Mac, you might lose your job here."

"Listen, I'll call Carlos and see what we can work out. Thanks for the heads up, but I have a flight to San Francisco in ten minutes."

"Mac, you are coming home, aren't you?"

"Sorry, gotta go." And the line went dead.

Joanna frowned as she hung up the phone. When she looked up, Mike Harlow was standing in her doorway.

"Bad news?" he asked.

"No. Um…it's nothing," she replied.

"I came to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner again. I really enjoyed last night."

Jo hesitated. Mac was obviously moving on with his life. She needed to do the same.

"I'd love to, Mike, but I really planned on staying late to finish up this paperwork. It's driving me nuts!"

"No problem! How about we order in and eat while we work. Do you want pizza or Chinese?"

"Your offer, your choice," she replied with a smile, sincerely glad she wouldn't be spending the evening alone.


	4. Second Chances

**A/N: This chapter is a bit longer, but I hope it's worth it!**

 **Second Chances**

It was a late-January morning when a non-descript beige sedan pulled into MacGyver's driveway. Since Sam had been on assignment during the holidays and was going to be on a month-long mission in a few weeks, his editor had agreed to give him an extended leave to go back to the States provided he return with an editorial on Small-Town Americana. Wanting to surprise his dad, he had rented a car at the airport. Hopefully, Mac would agree with his plan to spend a few days at Harry's cabin in Minnesota where he could research and write an article on Mission City.

Sam quickly made his way to the front door and rang the bell. When there was no answer, he rapped on the glass, calling his dad's name. Still, there was no reply. Even Frog wasn't barking. The young man eyed the deadbolt lock and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. He had promised MacGyver he would stop picking locks, but what if his dad was inside and sick or hurt? Just as he was reaching into his pocket for his Swiss Army knife, he heard his dad's landlord open the door on his side of the townhouse.

"What's with all the racket at this time of the day?!" he scolded.

"Hi, Mr. Rainey," Sam replied sheepishly. "It's me, Sam Malloy, MacGyver's son."

"Well, of course it is! I recognize you now! And call me Charlie like everyone else."

"Thanks, Charlie," Sam smiled. "Do you know if my dad's home? He's not expecting me and I was hoping to catch him before he left for work."

The older man shook his head slowly. "Your dad bugged outta here late Christmas night. The next morning that girlfriend of his came and packed up the dog and left. Said Mac was going to Los Angeles. A friend of his had been in an accident. Haven't seen or heard from either of 'em since."

"Oh," Sam responded both concerned and perplexed. "Sorry to have bothered you."

"Think nothing of it! And don't be a stranger now, ya hear?!"

A short while later Sam was standing in front of the reception desk at the law firm where Jo and his dad worked.

"May I help you?" the young, sweet-looking receptionist asked.

"I'm looking for Joanna Fairfax."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I'm a friend of the family," Sam replied, flashing her his winningest smile.

The young woman blushed. "Her door is the third one on the left," she told him, motioning down a long hallway.

"Thanks," he said with a parting wink.

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Joanna was sitting on the corner of her desk with Mike standing next to her. They were both laughing about a couple they had just met with who wanted a divorce after the husband lost a football bet to his wife when Jo glanced up to see Sam standing in the doorway.

"Sam!" she exclaimed, sliding off the desk and smoothing her skirt. "What in the world are you doing here?!"

"Who's he?" the young man asked, ignoring her question.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Sam Malloy, this is Mike Harlow, a co-worker. Mike, this is MacGyver's son, Sam."

"Nice to meet you," Mike said, offering his hand which Sam ignored. He then turned to Joanna. "We still on for lunch later?"

"Yeah, sure," she responded absently, her attention fixed on Mac's son.

Mike took the hint and silently left the office.

"What's going on with you two?!" Sam demanded, walking up to Jo's desk.

"We're just friends," she replied defiantly.

"Yeah? That's what you always said about my dad!"

"It's not like that." Joanna willed herself to breathe deep and speak calmly. "Mike and I really are just friends. I promise."

Sam's posture relaxed, but he didn't look convinced.

"I went by my dad's place earlier. Charlie said he's in Los Angeles. What's going on?"

Joanna motioned to a chair across from her. "Have a seat Sam," she said as she settled into her own chair. "Your dad got a call from Jack Dalton's mom on Christmas night. Jack had crashed his plane and it didn't look good. Mac couldn't get a flight so he drove out."

Sam's gaze fell to the floor. "How's Jack?"

"He's doing fine. He has some broken bones but he's recovering. In the mean time, your dad is helping out with Jack's air charter business and also helping Cynthia at Challengers."

"When's he coming home?"

Now it was Joanna's eyes that lowered. "I don't know," she replied softly.

"When was the last time you talked with him?"

"It's been a few days. I'm sorry, Sam. Mac isn't telling me much these days."

"Is it because of the jersey?"

"Huh?"

"Dad did give you a hockey jersey for Christmas, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"What did you say?" Sam sounded nervous. Almost like his dad when he first presented her with the gift.

"Nothing," she shrugged. "His cell phone rang before I could even thank him."

"So he didn't ask you about the name?"

"He tried, but Francine called."

Sam let out a pent up sigh and ran his hand down his face.

"Look, Sam, what's the big deal about what name goes on it, anyway? It's not like I have a favorite player or anything."

"Do you have a number where I can reach my dad?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Sure." Joanna scribbled the number to Jack's office on the back of one of her business cards. "Will you be staying at Mac's place?"

"Yeah, if I can pick the lock."

Joanna grinned for the first time since seeing Sam. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a keychain.

"Here. You're dad gave it to me. I don't think I'll be needing it anymore," she said, dropping the key into the palm of his hand.

Sam studied her face and then the key. "What's going on between you two?"

"Ask your father," she replied shortly before turning her attention to her files.

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MacGyver was scheduled to fly three CEO's to Vegas in thirty minutes. He had just completed his pre-flight check list when the office phone rang. He was tempted to let the machine get it until he remembered that Jack's answering machine was broken. Something else he had to fix. He jogged from the tarmac and answered the phone with a slightly breathless "Hello".

"You didn't ask her, did you!?" a voice on the other scolded.

"Huh?"

"Joanna. You didn't ask her to marry you like you planned. You chickened out…again!"

"Sam? Where are you?"

"I'm in Milwaukee. I wanted to surprise you with a visit before I have to leave for my next assignment. I saw Jo."

MacGyver sighed and ran his hand through his already tousled hair.

"I tried, Sam. I really did. But then Francine called…"

"Save it, Dad. Are you telling me you couldn't have stayed a few extra minutes to propose? Or did you take advantage of the call to make an escape?"

"Look, I had to get to Jack. He's my friend, and when you make a friend…"

"You take on a responsibility. I know that, Dad! But what about Joanna? I thought she was a lot more than a friend and a helluva lot more than just a responsibility to you!"

"She is, but—" the line was already dead and MacGyver slammed down the phone in frustration.

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Sam paced the apartment, seething with anger. He had come back to the States planning on celebrating their engagement, but he returned to find them further apart than ever, both physically and emotionally. It was obvious to Sam that Jo and his dad loved each other and belonged together, but something always got in the way. He stopped pacing and stared out the patio door. Maybe they just needed a little bit of help.

"Hello!" MacGyver barked into the phone.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you."

"You're right. You shouldn't have," Mac replied evenly, but Sam could hear the smile in his voice. "The thing is, you have a point. I really blew it this time, didn't I?"

"Maybe," Sam shrugged his shoulders even though his dad couldn't see him. "Tell you what. How about you meet me up at Harry's cabin this weekend? We could spend some quality time together while I write a piece on Mission City for my editor.

There was silence at first, then Sam heard papers being shuffled and finally MacGyver's voice.

"Looks like I don't have any charters so I can fly in. Meet you there Saturday morning?"

"I'll be there!" Sam answered with a very satisfied grin.

One down, one to go.

Sam knocked on Joanna's office door the following day. When he opened it he found Mike leaning over her shoulder, studying something on her computer. Sam frowned and Joanna looked up, surprise registered on her face.

"Sam! I wasn't expecting you."

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked while keeping a wary eye on Mike.

"No," she replied a bit too quickly. "We were just going over some reports."

Sam would have preferred to talk to Jo alone, but Mike did not look like he was inclined to leave any time soon.

"I'm going up to Mission City this weekend and wondered if you'd like to come along. Kinda get out of your head for a while, ya know?"

"I don't know…" she hedged.

"We'll head out Friday morning. Make a three-day weekend out of it. What do you say?"

He could practically see the gears in her head turning, just like Dad when he was thinking. Maybe _that_ was it! Maybe both of them just _thought_ too much!

"You should go," Mike urged her, to Sam's surprise. "You've been putting in a lot of overtime and you have vacation days coming."

"I was planning on staying at Harry's cabin, but you could get a motel room if you prefer," Sam added quickly before Jo could protest.

"No, I like Harry's cabin. And you're right, it might be good to get away for a couple days."

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What had she been thinking?! For the past few weeks she had worked so hard to get MacGyver and the chance of a future with him out of her head and here she was, planning to spend the weekend with his son at his grandfather's cabin. The same cabin they had once shared.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Sam maneuvered his rental car up the narrow drive that led to the cabin.

"You okay?" he asked as he put the vehicle in park, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, sure," Joanna replied shortly as she climbed from the passenger seat.

Sam led the way and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and flipped a switch bathing the one large room in warm lamplight.

"Looks like Neil came through for us," he observed. "I called ahead and asked him to get the utilities turned on."

Joanna had met Neil, Mac's childhood friend, when she had been up here before. She walked around the room to get her bearings. Not only had Neil taken care of the electricity, but he had laid in a supply of wood for the fireplace, stocked the cupboards, and flushed the pipes as well.

Sam retrieved their bags from the car and started a fire while Joanna put together a simple supper. A little while later she emerged from the bathroom after taking a long hot shower to find that it had started to snow. Large, fluffy flakes floated down from the sky. Clad in flannel lounge pants and a sweatshirt, Joanna slipped into the double bed and willed her muscles to relax and her mind to stop thinking. She fell asleep listening to the steady rhythm of Sam's snoring coming from where he dozed on the couch in front of the television.

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MacGyver's rented SUV bumped along the snow-covered road Saturday morning. Thankfully, the storm had stayed far enough north allowing him to land in Minneapolis without a problem. He soon saw smoke rising from the chimney and a large white bump that had to be his son's car. It felt good to be back, away from the city and the demands of Jack's fledgling business and Challengers.

Mac had just walked through the door and greeted Sam when Joanna emerged from the bathroom wearing jeans and a sweater. She was the last person MacGyver expected to see here. Apparently, she felt the same way about him as their gazes locked and he saw anger spark in her deep brown eyes before being replaced with…sadness?

As if by unspoken agreement, they both turned on the younger man simultaneously.

"Sam!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Now listen," Sam replied firmly. "You two need to talk. I mean really talk and work through whatever's going on between you. I'm gonna go get more wood for the fireplace." He then slipped out the door into the snow.

MacGyver sat down at the kitchen table while Joanna walked over to the sink.

"Breakfast?" she asked politely.

"No thanks, I grabbed something on the way up here. But feel free to go ahead."

"I'm not hungry," she replied softly before filling a glass with tap water and taking a seat across from him.

"So, how did my charming son convince you to come up here?"

"You first," she challenged.

"He played the 'let's have some father/son quality time' card."

"You mean he didn't tell you about Mike?"

Mac's pulse jumped. "Mike? Mike who?"

"Mike Harlow, from work. Since you're not there Hernandez teamed us up. Sam saw us together a couple times and I believe he's jealous on your behalf."

"Should he be?"

"Absolutely not! You know Mike's a good guy. We're work friends, that's it," Jo explained.

"Yeah, I know," Mac replied. "Now it's your turn."

"Sam, with a little help from Mike, convinced me I've been working too hard and needed some time off and, to be honest, a weekend in the woods away from everyone and everything didn't sound so bad."

"Until I showed up, right?" MacGyver figured it was time to come clean.

"When I gave you that jersey, before Francine called, I was trying to propose to you."

The corners of Joanna's mouth tugged upward. "I kinda figured that out."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Jo confessed. "After you, and then Sam, made such a big deal out of which name I wanted on the back, I figured you were going to ask me if I wanted it to say 'Fairfax'…or 'MacGyver'."

"If we hadn't been interrupted and I had asked you to marry me that night, what would you have said?"

"I would've said 'yes'."

"And if I asked you to marry me now?"

Joanna's eyes fell to the untouched drinking glass on the table and she shook her head slowly. "I don't know."

Mac's stomach clenched at her answer, but if he were honest with himself, he wasn't sure he even wanted to propose again.

The uneasy silence that had fallen between them was shattered by the rev of an engine and the whir of tires. MacGyver lunged for the door, Joanna right behind him, in time to see Sam barreling down the snowy drive in Mac's SUV.

"He's probably just anxious to get into town and start his story," Mac said casually, trying to hide his concern at his son's hasty departure.

"I don't think so," Joanna replied ominously.

MacGyver turned in time to see her grab a note that had been tacked to the door.

"It just says, 'See ya Sunday'." She offered the note to Mac.

MacGyver crumpled the piece of paper in his hand.

"He's not gonna get away with this!"

"Get away with what?" Joanna asked, truly dumbfounded.

"All but kidnapping and abandoning us in the hopes that we'll get back together!"

Mac stormed back into the cabin. "Get your boots on," he commanded Jo. "We're leaving!"

A short while later, Mac slid behind the wheel of Sam's rented sedan, now free of snow, and reached under the dash to pull down some wires. Joanna sat silently next to him. Hotwiring a car came naturally to him, but today he seemed to be all thumbs and, when the stripped wires made contact with each other, the engine wouldn't fire. Biting back a curse he got out and lifted the hood.

"Terrific!"

"What is it?" He hadn't heard Joanna approach.

"The distributer cap. It's gone," he groaned, shoving his hand through this hair.

"Can't you do something?"

"No! I can't just 'do something'!" he snapped causing Jo to flinch. "C'mon," he gentled his voice as he led Joanna back inside the cabin. "I'll call Neil and have him come get us."

"I don't get it," Joanna huffed. "Why can't we just wait for Sam to pick us up tomorrow? Or do you want to get away from me that badly?"

MacGyver dropped his head and blew out a breath. "This has nothing to do with you. I'm just sick and tired of Sam thinking he knows what's best for me and trying to manipulate us!"

Mac grabbed the phone, but silence greet him when he held the receiver to his ear.

"Line's dead," he growled.

"Did you bring you're cell phone?"

"Yeah. I left it in the truck. You?"

"Sorry. It's at home. I wanted to be disconnected, remember?"

"I got an idea," he said as he grabbed Joanna's wrist and made his way behind the cabin to a small storage shed.

After clearing away the snow and prying open the door, MacGyver stepped in and began to rummage around the small, dimly lit space.

"Ever been snowshoeing before?" he asked Joanna.

"No," she answered, trepidation in her voice.

"Well, there's a first time for everything," he stated as he shoved a pair of snowshoes at her.

"You're not seriously suggesting we walk to town!"

"Nope. Just to the main road. Hopefully someone will take pity on us and give us a lift."

Mac continued searching the shed, but found nothing else of value.

"What are you going to do?" Joanna asked in a soft voice. "There's only one pair."

"Go inside, bundle up and strap those on," he instructed. "I'll be right there."

MacGyver entered the cabin, arms loaded with various twigs and branches, to find Joanna bent over and struggling with the snowshoes. She looked up at him in frustration.

"I've never done this before."

"That's okay, I got it," he replied in what he hoped was an easy, relaxed tone.

He made quick work of strapping her feet to the snowshoes.

"Could you grab the duct tape out of my duffle?" he asked as he grabbed a couple of the branches he had found.

"You're going to make your own snowshoes?" Jo asked in disbelief.

"Yep," he replied with a grin.

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MacGyver took another step and his foot sunk even deeper into the fluffy snow. Maybe taking a shortcut through the woods hadn't been the best idea since his homemade snowshoes weren't working out as well as he had envisioned. When last he had checked, Joanna had been awkwardly walking a few yards behind him. They had been on the move for a while now, and Mac figured they were about half way to the road when he heard an oomph and a thump from behind. He turned to find Jo sitting awkwardly in a snow drift.

"What happened?" he asked as he made his way back to her.

"My knee just gave out," she answered calmly. "Here, help me up." She stuck out her hand towards him.

"You should stay down. You might be injured."

Jo shook her head. "I've had problems with my knees since I was in my early teens. I'm fine," she explained as she clamped onto his arm and clamored to her feet.

Unfortunately, the next time she put weight on that leg the knee buckled again. This time, MacGyver was prepared. He caught her around the waist and gently lowered her to the ground.

"We need to get you back to the cabin," he said firmly.

"No. I just need to rest it a minute. You go ahead and track down Sam and I'll walk back to the cabin in a bit."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to leave you alone in the snow with a bum knee?" he asked gruffly as he began to unstrap her snowshoes.

"Apparently not," she mumbled as MacGyver made quick work of ditching his sorry excuse for snowshoes and putting on the real ones Joanna had worn. He then crouched in front of her, his large hands examining her knee through her jean clad legs.

"How am I supposed to walk back when you stole my snowshoes?" she asked, frustration creeping into her voice.

"You're not," Mac replied. "Your knee is already starting to swell. I'm going to have to carry you."

"What?" she squeaked as he reached out, pulled her to her feet, and bent over.

"Climb on my back," he instructed. "We'll do it piggy back."

After several seconds he finally felt Jo put her weight on him.

"Put your arms around my neck," he instructed as he straightened up holding her legs around his waist. She held on so tight he had trouble breathing, but he actually didn't mind.

Once safely inside the cabin, MacGyver lowered Joanna to the floor and watched as she gingerly tested putting weight on her knee.

"Think you can make your way to the bathroom and get out of those wet jeans?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. "It seems to be getting better."

When she stepped out of the bathroom wearing her flannel lounge pants and a sweatshirt, MacGyver helped her over to the couch, raised her leg to rest on the battered coffee table, and placed a plastic baggie full of ice cubes on her knee. He retreated to the kitchen for a couple minutes before returning to the couch with two piping hot bowls of chili.

"I know I'm hungry and I figured you must be too," he said as he handed Jo one of the bowls and sat down beside her.

"You made this?" she asked skeptically.

"Yep. Opened the can all by myself and everything!" he grinned before shoveling a spoonful of chili into his mouth.

Joanna laughed softly before doing the same.

"What happened between us, Mac?" she asked quietly once they were done eating.

MacGyver sighed, leaned forward, and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"I let Jack Dalton get inside my head. That's what happened." He glanced at Jo's questioning gaze before continuing. "He tried to convince me that guys like us are incapable of settling down and the longer I was out there the more I believed it."

"And what do you believe now that you're here?" Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"I believe I need to stop listening to Jack Dalton. I suppose there will always be a part of me that craves freedom and adventure, but there's a bigger part of me that wants to fall in love, put down roots, and have a real home."

Mac looked up and locked on Joanna's eyes. "What about you?"

She shook her head slowly, sadly. "I let myself get caught up in all the ugly divorce stories I heard and I started to apply them to us."

"Like what?"

"Like how we met at work and never really dated. How we enjoy different hobbies and activities. How we've both been independent so long. And how we shut each other out when life gets hard."

MacGyver draped his arm across the back of the couch and began massage Joanna's neck.

"Some of those things aren't necessarily bad," he reasoned. "And we can work through all of them if we love each other enough to try."

Joanna simply sighed as they both turned their attention to the crackling fire that warmed the room.

"Why marriage?" Jo suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had enveloped them.

Mac shrugged. "It just seemed like the next logical step."

"And now?"

MacGyver's silence was her answer.

"That's what I thought," she replied sadly as she carefully rose from the couch and limped her way to the bed.

XXXXX

MacGyver had turned on an old Western and muted the sound after Joanna went to bed. He was just beginning to doze off when a noise from the other side of the room caught his attention. When he didn't hear it again after several minutes, he figured it was just the winter wind and allowed himself to relax. Just then the noise came again, sounding like something between a moan and a whimper. Joanna!

Mac quickly ran to her bedside and found her lying with her back to him.

"What's wrong, baby? Is it your knee?"

"Cold," came the mumbled reply.

MacGyver quickly looked around the room for an extra blanket and ended up pulling the quilt off his cot and gently placing it over Joanna. Still, he could see her body quaking beneath the covers. He reached over and put his hand on her forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he murmured, "But you're probably coming down with something."

He stood helplessly watching her for several minutes as she shivered and moaned, his mind warring with his heart. When he couldn't stand watching her suffer any longer, he did the only thing he could think of. He lifted the covers and carefully crawled into bed beside her to share his body heat. He draped an arm gently around her waist and was about to pull her to him when she suddenly shimmied against him so that her back pressed against his chest. He gently kissed the top of her head before tucking it to rest beneath his chin, his arm wrapped tightly around her.

Hours later MacGyver was awakened by Joanna's coughing, her entire body shuddering.

"Honey?" she croaked.

"I'm right here, baby," Mac assured her as he held her tight.

Joanna wiggled out of his grasp and into a sitting position.

"No," she said in between coughs. "Do we have any honey?"

"Oh. Um. Let me check," he said as he slipped from the bed.

He grabbed a flashlight and rummaged through the cupboards until he had located a jar of honey and a spoon. Joanna greedily measured out and swallowed the sweet syrup, allowing it to soothe her throat and calm her cough. When the episode passed, she once again burrowed beneath the covers, this time facing MacGyver. He smiled when he felt her warm breath on his cheek and the weight of her hand on his chest.

"Thanks…honey," she murmured sleepily.

XXXXX

"How are you feeling?" MacGyver asked Joanna later that morning as he handed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate and sat beside her on the sofa.

"Better," she replied after taking a sip of the hot liquid. "My knee is still stiff, but the swelling's gone down, and my cough seems to be gone but my nose is stuffed up."

"This is all my fault," Mac sighed guiltily. "I should have never dragged you out in the snow like that."

"C'mon, Mac," Jo chided. "Since when do you ever make me do anything I don't want to?"

"You got a point," he responded, tapping the tip of her nose with his index finger as she nestled her head against his shoulder. He relished the feelings of protectiveness and peace she stirred in him.

"This is why," he said huskily.

Jo raised her head. "'Why' what?"

"Why I wanted to ask you to marry me."

Joanna quirked her brow and Mac knew further explanation was in order.

"When you asked yesterday, I didn't know what to say. But now I do. I wanted to marry you so that I could always be there to love you, take care of you when you're sick or hurt, but most of all, so that no matter where we go or what we do, you'll always be my home."

The words had barely left MacGyver's mouth before the front door swung open and Sam barged into the room, dropping two packages on the kitchen table before standing in front of the fireplace.

"Man, it's cold out there!" he exclaimed. "So, did you two get everything straightened out?" he asked.

"We're working on it," Mac assured his son as he smiled at Jo. They were on the right track, but their behavior these past few weeks proved they still had some things to work through.

"So no engagement then," the younger man frowned.

"Saaam," MacGyver warned.

"Hey, no rush! But I think you'll like what I have for you."

They made their way to the kitchen table where Sam gave one box to Jo and the other to Mac.

Joanna opened her gift first and laughed. It was the Milwaukee Admirals hockey jersey that MacGyver had tried to propose with at Christmas. On the back, emblazoned where her name should be was the statement: "Mac's Girl" in big, bold letters.

Mac opened his box to find a brand new Calgary Flames jersey. He turned it around to find that it boldly proclaimed him "Jo's Guy".

"Well? What do you think? Do you like 'em?" Sam asked eagerly.

"They're perfect!" the couple replied in unison.


	5. Justice

**Justice**

Okay. He admitted it. He deserved this crummy assignment after taking a month-long emergency leave of absence. MacGyver leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands trying to get the sight of the mountains of paperwork surrounding him out of his mind if only for a few minutes. If he never saw another manila file for the rest of his life it would be too soon!

"Was it worth it?" Mike Harlow asked, leaning casually against the doorjamb.

Mac straightened up and opened his eyes to glare at his co-worker.

"I'm beginning to wonder," he grumbled.

After his weekend at Harry's cabin, he had flown back to Los Angeles, hired a temporary pilot until Jack was fully healed, borrowed Jack a down payment and co-signed a loan for another plane, and then drove two thousand miles back to Milwaukee. Back home.

"Jack must be a pretty special friend," Mike observed.

"Oh, he's _special_ all right," Mac confirmed cynically.

Before MacGyver could elaborate, Joanna poked her head into the office. Her friendly smile turned to a frown when she saw the piles of paperwork Carlos Hernandez had given to Mac.

"Hey!" she greeted him. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be at the courthouse the rest of the day. A couple clients' divorce cases are being heard and they insisted I be there for moral support." She pulled a face as she explained and MacGyver couldn't help but chuckle.

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It was late afternoon by the time Joanna emerged from the courtroom. The clients had appreciated her presence, but the heavy cloak of negativity that surrounded the proceedings had started to depress her. Not anxious to go out into the cold February weather, Jo decided to stroll around the old courthouse and admire the art and architecture she usually never had time to notice. She was walking down a long, ornate corridor when the doors to a court room burst open, causing her to stop in her tracks. A surly Hispanic teenager stalked out flanked by a petite Hispanic woman Jo assumed to be his mother and a burly, white, middle-aged man who must be his lawyer.

"I ain't gonna plead guilty for somethin' I didn't do!" the boy spat at the man.

"Mijo!" the woman exclaimed, reaching out to grab her son's arm which he promptly pulled away.

"Listen, kid," the burly man snarled. "Just take the plea deal and make it easy on everyone. No jury in the world is gonna believe you anyway." And with that the man walked away.

The teen spun around to stare out the window while his mother silently wrung her hands. Joanna swallowed hard. She knew the scene that had just played out in front of her happened all too often. The public defender too lazy to actually work a case so he coerced his clients into false confessions and plea deals. But she had never actually seen it happen. It made her blood boil. But it wasn't any of her business. She put her head down and slipped quietly past the little family, but then jerked around when the woman called out to her.

"Ms. Joanna?!"

She hadn't been called that since her days at Challengers Academy.

"Yes?"

"Oh, it _is_ you," the Hispanic woman said in a relieved voice.

"I'm sorry…I don't…"

"Oh, of course you don't remember me!" the woman apologized. "I'm Rosie Garcia and that's my son, Raul. He attended Challengers."

Joanna smiled and shook Rosie's hand. She remembered Raul well. He had been a small, shy boy, but he had grown like a weed since she last saw him.

"Raul," Rosie called in a commanding tone. "Come say hello to Ms. Joanna!"

The teen turned around, eyes wide with surprise, but remained silent.

"Hi Raul," Jo said before turning back to Rosie.

"I couldn't help but overhear what happened just now. Can I ask what's going on?"

"I didn't do it!" Raul proclaimed defensively as he came to stand beside his mother.

Rosie sighed. "Raul has just been charged with vehicular vandalism, attempted auto theft, and party to a crime."

"I wasn't even there!" the teen interjected.

"How about we all go to the cafeteria, get something to drink, and you can tell me all about it," Joanna suggested, hoping to diffuse the situation somewhat.

Thirty minutes and several cups of hot cocoa later, Joanna learned that local gang members had vandalized a car parked at a gas station. The incident had been caught on grainy surveillance tape. The leader of the gang, who had been arrested in the process, quickly identified the member swinging the baseball bat at the windshield as Raul Garcia. Raul was later arrested at his home where he claimed he had been all night. He also claimed he was not involved with the gang and that the leader had lied to punish him for not joining.

"I suppose you don't believe me, either," Raul moaned when he had finished his story.

"I believe you," Jo assured him. "In fact, I might be able to help. I work for a law firm now. Let me talk to my boss tomorrow and see if we can get a _real_ lawyer on this case."

Rosie shook her head dejectedly. "That's very kind of you, Ms. Joanna, but we can't afford some fancy lawyer."

"Don't worry about the cost," Jo said gently. "I'm sure we can work something out."

After exchanging contact information and promises to keep in touch, Rosie and Raul left the building. Joanna quickly dug in her purse for her cell phone. She had to talk to someone. Scratch that. She had to talk to Mac. When she called his office, home, and cell phone and he didn't answer any of them, she decided to take the long way home and see if he was at the hockey rink.

Having seen his Jeep in the parking lot, Joanna now made her way down the bleacher steps to the home team's bench. She sat down and watched the lone figure in front of her glide across the ice with a unique combination of grace and power, a sight she was sure she would never grow tired of.

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MacGyver was just finishing his final warm-up lap when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He skidded to a stop and found Joanna seated on the home team's bench. He acknowledged her with a wave of his bulky hockey glove before skimming across the ice to join her.

"Hey," he said breathlessly before giving her a quick peck on the cheek and sitting down beside her. "How did you know I'd be here?"

Joanna smiled. "I'd like to say it was due to my finely honed detective skills…"

"But…?" he prodded teasingly.

"But you weren't at work and you weren't at home so I figured where else could you be?"

"Aw man, you mean I'm that predictable?" MacGyver slouched against the bench, removing his gloves and helmet. His sweaty hair plastered to his head.

"Trust me. You will never be predictable," she reassured him as she reached over and brushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes. "Let's just say I know you better than most people, okay?"

"Okay," Mac replied with a cheeky grin. "We'll go with that. Now, what brings you down here anyway?"

"I ran into a mutual acquaintance of ours today."

"Really? Who?" he asked absently as he began unlacing his skates.

"Remember Raul Garcia from Challengers Academy?"

"Yeah. Nice kid. He was turning into quite a hockey player."

"Well, I ran into him and his mom at the courthouse today."

"The courthouse? What was he doing there?" MacGyver's curiosity was sufficiently piqued, but he was afraid to hear the answer.

Joanna turned so she was facing him and launched into the details of her encounter earlier that day, as well as her plans to help Raul.

"So what do you say? Will you help me?" she asked, an expectant look on her face.

XXXXX

The following morning MacGyver stood next to Joanna in Carlos Hernandez's office. When she had asked him for help the day before, her liquid brown eyes, like melted chocolate, had warmed his heart and he was helpless to refuse. Besides, if even part of what she had said was true, Raul was getting a raw deal.

"Pro bono?!" Hernandez bellowed when Jo had finished laying out her plans causing both her and Mac to wince.

"Let me get this straight," their boss continued in a low growl. "You want me to assign one of my lawyers to defend some punk street kid for free when everyone is up to their eyeballs in billable cases?!"

"Look," MacGyver tried to explain. "Raul isn't a punk. He's a good kid with a lot of potential who's found himself in a bad situation through no fault of his own. It's just him and his mom and they can't afford to seek the justice he deserves."

Hernandez blew out a breath. "I'll tell you what. If you can find one of my lawyers who's willing to take the case without pay _and_ on their own time you can go right ahead. _But_ , if I notice even a fraction of decrease in said lawyer's performance, they're off the case! Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Mac replied with a nod, saving his satisfied grin for when he and Jo left the office.

Later that afternoon, MacGyver poked his head into Joanna's office, clearing his throat loudly to announce his presence. She turned away from her computer with a frown, no doubt not pleased with the interruption, but that would soon change. He hoped. He motioned a fifty-something man of Asian descent ahead of him before entering the office himself and firmly closing the door. Jo's eyebrows shot up and she tilted her head in a questioning gesture.

"Joanna, this is Lee Vang, a criminal defense lawyer from downstairs. He's agreed to take Raul's case," Mac announced.

A look of disbelief flitted across her face before she pasted her most professional smile in place and stood to shake the man's hand.

"It's good to meet you," she said warmly. "Did MacGyver explain the details and stipulations of the case?"

"Yes, Ms. Fairfax. He did."

"And you're still willing to take it?"

"Indeed. I began my career as a public defender and saw similar injustices carried out far too often. It's been an issue close to my heart all these years, and my caseload is relatively light at the moment. It would be my honor to defend this young man MacGyver speaks of so highly."

Mac watched as Jo's professional veneer slipped just a bit.

"I'm so glad to hear that," Joanna replied. "I'll get you the Garcia's contact information, and please let Mac or me know if we can help in any way."

"Thank you, Ms. Fairfax. I look forward to working with both of you."

"Please, call me Joanna," she said as she once again shook the lawyer's hand before he headed back to his office.

"Wow," she turned to MacGyver. "You work fast!"

"Let's just say I can be very persuasive when I want to be," he said, grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary while Joanna quirked an eyebrow.

Three days later, Lee Vang summoned Mac and Joanna to his office. The frown on the attorney's face caused MacGyver's stomach to dip. There was a problem.

"Please, have a seat," Vang invited them to sit across from him.

"What's up?" Mac asked, trying to sound casual even as he felt the concern emanating from Jo.

"I'm afraid this case might be more difficult to defend than I first anticipated," Vang confessed as his two co-workers remained silent awaiting further explanation.

"The only hard evidence we have is an inconclusive surveillance video and testimony of a gang leader."

"Exactly!" Mac exclaimed. "What jury is gonna believe a gang banger?! And whatever happened to being innocent until proven guilty?! If the tape is inconclusive, then there isn't any proof!" Mac slammed his hand down hard on Vang's desk before standing up to pace the small room.

Vang remained calm, apparently used to outbursts from his clients. "If we take this case to trial, the best we can hope for is a sympathetic jury willing to consider the lack of evidence and testimony of character witnesses."

"What do you mean 'if'?" Mac turned to glare at the lawyer.

"I hate to admit it, but perhaps agreeing to a plea deal in this case would be the best course of action."

MacGyver could feel his blood turn cold even as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

"No!" he barked. "Raul wasn't even there!"

"So he says," the attorney replied softly.

"You don't even believe your own client?" Mac asked incredulously.

"Perhaps you could show us the video?" Joanna asked calmly in an obvious attempt to diffuse the conversation.

"Of course," the lawyer agreed and went over to a small cabinet which he opened to reveal a small television set and VCR. He replayed the tape a couple of times while MacGyver stood on the other side of the room trying to regain his composure.

"Mac, come over and look at this," Joanna implored. "Maybe you can see something we can't."

MacGyver stared intently at the screen as the crime played out before him over and over. All he could see were four figures, assumed to be gang members, wreaking havoc on a parked car. Oh, how he longed for access to Phoenix technology that could enhance this grainy video!

"I don't suppose there are any ways to clean up this tape?" he asked.

Silence was his answer.

He had seen enough and was ready to walk away when he thought he might have found a clue.

"Play this back one more time," he requested.

This time his gaze stayed focused on the figure with the baseball bat.

"I think I found something," he announced as he turned to leave the office.

"What is it?" Joanna asked, hurrying after him.

"Where are you going?" she demanded when her question went unanswered.

"Back to my place. I need to check something out. Wanna come?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, tight on his heels.

MacGyver quickly unlocked his front door and hurried to his video collection, scanning the titles until he found the cassette he wanted. He turned on the television, shoved the tape into the VCR, and waited impatiently for it to begin.

"What are we watching?" Joanna asked.

"A tape of one of the Challengers ice hockey games. A parent had given me a copy."

"What are we looking for?" she asked again as the tape began to play.

"Raul," Mac replied evenly.

They watched the game for several minutes before MacGyver pointed to the screen.

"There he is…number nine."

Mac kept his eyes glued to the screen, waiting. Eventually the puck was passed to Raul who wound up and took a shot on goal that went incredibly wide.

"I knew it!" MacGyver exclaimed, turning off the tape and grabbing it as soon as it ejected as if it was the Stanley Cup.

"Knew what?" Joanna asked, clearly not understanding his discovery.

"Raul is left-handed! That slap shot proves it!"

"So?"

MacGyver took a breath. "So, Raul is supposedly the one swinging the baseball bat on the surveillance tape, right?"

"Yeah."

"Whoever swung that bat was _right_ handed and therefore _not_ Raul!"

A week later, at Raul's preliminary hearing, Joanna and MacGyver spoke out as character witnesses for the boy. Once they had given their testimony, they sat on a cold, hard bench in the gallery with a nervous Rosie Garcia between them. Joanna patted the woman's hand soothingly and MacGyver offered encouraging smiles while the judge watched the two video tapes that were the basis of Raul's defense. Once the official was satisfied with what he saw, Lee Vang began a well-rehearsed closing statement ending with a motion for the court to dismiss the case against his client due to lack of evidence. The judge called for a quick recess in order to consider the request while ordering all parties to remain in the courtroom. Rosie Garcia took this opportunity to lock hands with Joanna and MacGyver.

"No matter what the judge decides, I want to thank you both for believing in my Raul and going out of your way to help us. I have never been more grateful to anyone," she said as tears welled in her eyes.

"Hey, even if we don't get the case dismissed, there's still a long way to go and we'll all be with you and Raul every step of the way," MacGyver assured her.

"You and Ms. Joanna and Mr. Vang have been such a blessing. How will I ever repay you?"

"You won't," MacGyver said firmly but with a warm smile.

"Unless you want to make us a batch of your homemade tamales Raul has been telling me about," Lee Vang offered, turning from where he was seated with his client.

"Consider it done," Rosie promised with a watery smiled that was wiped from her face seconds later when the judge reentered the courtroom. Once settled in his chair, he asked Raul to rise before addressing him.

"Young man," he began. "It appears the court owes you an apology. In our rush to judgement, we often see what is not there and hear what is not true. I applaud you and those who supported you in your quest for justice. Therefore, due to the overwhelming lack of evidence and to keep your record unblemished, this case is undeniably dismissed."

There was a collective sigh as the judge banged his gavel and returned to his chambers. Raul turned to Joanna and MacGyver.

"Thank you so much for believing in me," he said fervently.

"Not a problem," MacGyver answered with a smile as Joanna beamed beside him.

"Come, mijo, we must go home," Rosie ordered. "I have tamales to make," she said with a wink to Mr. Vang.

"I wish all cases were so easily resolved," the lawyer sighed as the Garcias left the courtroom. "What is the world coming to when the justice system continually fails our youngest citizens? If it wasn't for you two, Raul could have very well ended up being another sad statistic."

"We're just glad we could help," MacGyver replied, rocking back on his heels.

"Unfortunately you can't help them all," Vang said dejectedly. "And just today the city shut down yet another youth program which means there will be more kids out on the street."

"What happened?" Mac asked.

"What do you think?" Vang countered. "Money, Mr. MacGyver, or lack thereof. It's always all about money."

Mac watched as the lawyer hung his head and left the room before staring unseeingly at the large, wood double doors.

"You're thinking about something. I can see it." Jo's voice cut into his thoughts. "What is it, Mac?"

"I think I might have an idea."


	6. Possibilities

**A/N: _Short and sweet...a set-up for thing to come!_**

 **Possibilities**

The day following the dismissal of Raul's case, MacGyver sat at his desk staring at his closed office door deep in thought. His boss thought he was working through the mound of paperwork he had been assigned. His colleagues knew better than to disturb him. And Joanna had an innate sense of knowing when to give him time and space. Unfortunately, that "sense" was apparently attached to a timeframe because by noon her office door closed a little harder and her footsteps in the hall were a little louder. By mid-afternoon, various thunks, thuds, and bangs assaulted the wall they shared. Mac grinned. Time had run out. He ambled next door and leaned casually against the door jamb.

"You beckoned?" he asked Joanna who was typing away at her computer.

"I did?" Her mask of wide-eyed innocence only confirmed how guilty she was.

"Yes. You did." Mac stated as he sat down in a chair across from her.

"Well, you've hardly said a word since we left the courthouse yesterday. I'm worried about you."

MacGyver sighed. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

Without warning, Joanna slapped her palms against her desk and stood up fast. All pretense of innocence gone.

"You may be fine, but I'm not!" she exclaimed. "You talked about commitment and marriage. You even tried to propose to me! Yet you shut me out every chance you get! I know something is rattling around that great big brain of yours. Why can't you share it with me?!"

"I don't have everything figured out, yet," he replied, stunned at her uncharacteristic outburst but knowing he deserved it.

"So?" she asked, her voice calmer as she sat back down. "Can't we talk about it together? They say two heads are better than one," she grinned hopefully.

Mac scrubbed his face with his hands and leaned forward, his elbows perched on his knees.

"Remember yesterday when Vang said that a boys and girls club had just closed down?"

"Yeah," she replied, her brows knit in confusion.

"Well, I want to buy it and open it up as Milwaukee's own Challengers Club. That whole mess with Raul yesterday might have been prevented if teens like him had a place like that to go and people to watch out for them. We need to keep as many kids off the street as possible."

"Wow," was all Joanna said as she let out a breath and leaned back in her chair.

To MacGyver, it seemed as if all the oxygen had left the room. His heart pounded and his lungs burned as he waited for her to say something. Anything. Minutes felt like hours and he was just about to tell her to forget he ever mentioned it when she drew in a breath.

"That's quite a commitment," she replied softly.

Now it was Mac's turn to bolt out of his seat in frustration.

"Really?! You're gonna throw the commitment issue in my face about this?!"

To Joanna's credit, she kept her composure and looked up at him confidently, her words strong and sure.

"What I meant is that it's a huge commitment for _anyone_."

Mollified, MacGyver sat back down.

"So, what's our first step?" she asked.

"What do you mean 'our' first step?" he asked in confusion.

Joanna rolled her eyes before pinning him with an angry glare. "I thought you were done shutting me out!"

"You mean you're on board with this?"

"How can I not be? I think it's a great idea!"

Mac knew she must have as many questions and misgivings as he did, but she refused to voice them and for that he loved her even more. As for himself, he would have to treat this like any mission he had went on for the DXS or Phoenix: Stay focused, remain calm, take it one step at a time.

"I already spoke with Vang and he contacted the realtor. They want to get the property off their hands as soon as possible so we scheduled a walk-through for tonight after work." He looked into her expectant eyes and knew what he had to do. "Do you want to come along?"

"Duh!" she pulled a face before smiling indulgently.

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Joanna, MacGyver, and Attorney Lee Vang huddled outside the old, brick, two-story structure in a not-so-great part of town as the realtor unlocked the door. Of course, Jo fully understood that such services needed to be in the areas where they could do the most good, but that didn't keep her from holding her purse a little tighter and looking around warily.

As they entered the building, she heard Mac release a relieved sigh. Apparently it was everything he had been expecting it to be. Since up until a few days ago the space had served as a youth center, there was no obvious need for modifications. The realtor also happily explained that everything, including plumbing and electricity, was up to code and ready for immediate occupancy.

The vast majority of the first floor was an open-concept recreation area complete with pool tables, video arcade games, overstuffed chairs and sofas, and even basic exercise equipment. The remaining space included small offices and a modest kitchen. Upstairs was a long corridor flanked on either side by several doors. Behind each door was a small, dormitory-like room with a nightstand and lamp between two twin beds. At either end of the hall was a large, locker room type bathroom complete with showers. This was where kids in dangerous or homeless situations could stay until more appropriate services could be provided.

"Surely it doesn't come with all the furnishings," Joanna observed, more than asked.

The realtor shrugged his shoulders. "We were told to lease it 'as is', so what you see is what you get."

Joanna's eyes grew huge as she caught Mac's attention and mouthed an astonished 'wow'.

After the tour, the trio had dinner at a casual restaurant near the law firm.

"Well, what do you think?" Vang asked.

"I think it's perfect!" Mac replied with more exuberance than Joanna had ever heard from him except when he was playing or watching hockey. She nodded her head in agreement.

"I thought you'd say that," Vang smiled, "So I went ahead and talked some numbers. It's really a very good deal considering everything that's included." The lawyer passed a piece of paper to MacGyver whose excitement suddenly faded. Joanna peered over his shoulder at the numbers and her stomach rebelled.

"You can take occupancy as soon as you can come up with first and last month's rent," the lawyer continued. "Call me when you're ready to seal the deal."

With that, Lee Vang grabbed his briefcase, slid out of the booth and disappeared, leaving Mac and Jo staring at the numbers he had presented.

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MacGyver was lying on his couch, staring up at the ceiling. The digital clock on top of the television read two o'clock in the morning. Every time he closed his eyes, numbers appeared in front of him along with big, fat dollar signs. What had he been thinking? There was no way he could make this happen. Yet Cynthia and Booker Wilson had done it. He just had to come up with a plan, only this time he was gonna need help. He pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and soon found himself parked in Joanna's driveway. He didn't want to ring the doorbell and wake the entire household, so he dialed her cell phone with his.

"I'm outside. Can we take?" he asked. She had answered the phone on the second ring so chances are he wasn't the only one having a sleepless night.

"I was so stupid!" he exclaimed, jamming his hand through his unruly hair as he collapsed on Jo's small sofa. "All I could think about was swooping in and saving kids from the street. I never considered the cost!"

"There were a lot of things you didn't consider," she added gently, her voice free of censure which he appreciated.

"What are you going to do about your job at the law firm?" Jo asked. "And who's gonna manage and staff the center when you can't be there?"

"I don't know," Mac mumbled, scrubbing his face with both hands. "But none of that will matter if I can't pay the lease."

"Well, how was the original Challengers Club financed?" Joanna asked.

Mac shrugged. "Donations. Fundraisers. Various grants. Loans."

"You have good credit, you should be able to get a loan."

"I doubt that," MacGyver replied slowly.

"Why?" Joanna was now squinting at him.

Mac winced. "I sorta co-signed a loan for Jack Dalton's business and Jack being…Jack…will probably default."

"Oh, Mac," Jo sighed, but quickly recovered. "What about the grants? Where did they come from?"

A slow smile tugged at MacGyver's lips. "For the last several years…from the Phoenix Foundation."

He pulled out his cell phone, ignoring Joanna's raised eyebrow.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Pete Thornton hissed into the phone.

"Is that how you answer _all_ your calls?" Mac retorted.

"Ah, MacGyver. I should have known. What is it?"

"I got a favor to ask of you Pete!"


	7. Realities

**Realities**

It was late Friday evening when MacGyver knocked on the door of the Thornton's modest home in suburban Chicago.

"Mac, come on in!" Pete greeted him as he opened the door. The two friends exchanged quick hugs.

"How ya doin' Pete?"

"Good, good," the older man replied a bit distractedly. "I hope you brought a suit for tomorrow."

"Yes, I brought a suit for tomorrow," Mac parroted back indulgently.

"And you got a haircut?"

"Of course!"

"You still can't lie, even to a blind man," Pete grunted as he turned and led the way into the living room before settling in an oversized chair.

MacGyver followed, pleased to see how easily his friend managed to get around despite his lack of sight.

"Where's Connie?" Mac asked as he seated himself on the couch.

"She decided to turn in early."

"I still can't believe you guys have been remarried for almost two years!"

"Yeah, how about that?" Pete laughed.

"Aw, come on! You guys were meant to be together. It only took a long divorce to help you figure it out," MacGyver teased before turning the conversation to the reason he had come to Chicago in the first place.

"So, how did you get the board to agree to a meeting so quickly? And on a Saturday?"

Pete leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his rotund belly and a satisfied grin on his face.

"Seems as if this old dog still has a few tricks left in him after all," he chuckled. "Turns out a couple of the Chicago based board members were friends of mine back at the Foundation in Los Angeles. I called in a couple old favors and voila!"

MacGyver smiled at his friend and former boss. Pete was always happiest when he had a project to work on. In the past, that project had usually been MacGyver and now, in a way, it was again.

"Thanks again for taking care of all the red tape and stuff," Mac said.

"Well, I know that's not your forte…besides, I've been getting kinda bored rattling around this house day in and day out."

"Connie's not keeping you on your toes?"

"Oh, she tries…but it isn't the same. You know?"

"Yeah, Pete, I know."

The following morning, MacGyver guided Pete through the maze of corridors that made up the Phoenix Foundation. Upon entering a small conference room, they were greeted by a jovial middle-aged man wearing chinos and a crew neck sweater. Mac looked down ruefully at his suit but new he had to put his best foot forward if he was to get this grant. Belatedly, he regretted not getting a haircut.

"Pete, my friend! So good to see you again! What is this? Twice in one week? You do remember you're retired, don't you?!" the man laughed.

"Andy, thanks for agreeing to meet with us outside of normal hours," Pete replied. "This is MacGyver." He gestured toward his friend.

"Good to meet you," Mac said, shaking Andy's hand before they all took a seat at the large, oval table that dominated the room.

"Ah, your reputation precedes you, Mr. MacGyver! Pete speaks very highly of you, and after reviewing your file I can see that it is well deserved."

"Thank you, sir," Mac replied politely, feeling like a kid in the principal's office waiting for the worst but hoping for the best.

"No need to be so formal! Call me 'Andy'."

MacGyver smiled and nodded his acquiescence.

"Well, then, I suppose you two want to get down to business."

"Won't the others be joining us?" Pete asked, his brow knit in confusion.

"Oh," Andy waved his hand dismissively, apparently forgetting Pete couldn't see it. "There's no need for them," he stated as he opened a portfolio and put on a pair of reading glasses. "All the appropriate paperwork has been submitted and at the weekly board meeting this past Wednesday it was unanimously agreed upon that—"

Mac tried to swallow but found his mouth had gone dry. This was it. One way or another.

"—The Phoenix Foundation will present the Challengers Boys and Girls Club with a grant for the requested amount with a review for renewal every six months."

MacGyver let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and suddenly realized his lungs were beginning to burn from lack of oxygen. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before reaching across the table to shake Andy's hand in appreciation.

"Now then," Andy continued, "We just need to go over the terms and conditions, have you sign a few more forms, and we can all get on with our weekend!"

XXXXX

Mac stood in his closed garage Sunday evening polishing the hood of the Nomad until he thought the paint would rub off. Frog sat at his feet, panting. A reminder that supper was long over-due.

"I haven't forgotten about you, buddy," MacGyver assured the dog. "We'll eat soon."

Lost in his thoughts, he hardly heard a car pull up his driveway, the drone of the motor suddenly cut off. Frog stood up and wagged his stubby tail. If Mac didn't know any better he'd say the beast was even smiling.

"You can't possibly know who it is," he chided the canine while heading toward the service door. It was then that he saw Joanna headed toward the house.

"In here!" he called.

Upon hearing his voice she made a quick turn and headed to the garage. Her expression flat and unreadable.

"What's up?" Mac asked. He thought she raised her eyebrows slightly.

"I thought you'd call when you got back."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I've had a lot on my mind," he explained as he returned to polishing his car.

"You didn't get the grant?" Jo asked quietly, a hint of pity in her voice.

"No, I got it," he replied dully.

Silence reigned and he knew she was giving him the chance to open himself up and let her in on his thoughts. Usually the one to _solve_ problems, he wasn't used to sharing his concerns with others. But if he wanted a lasting relationship with Jo, or anyone else, he better start…now.

He sighed and sat down on the chrome bumper. "When I got home there was a message on my machine from Vang. He said there's another offer on the building and if I can't come up with the down payment this week I could lose it."

He met her questioning gaze. "The grant money won't be available until the first of the month. By then it will be too late."

Joanna silently sat down beside him. "I've been saving—"

"No! I'm not gonna take that kind of money from you!"

"Why not? That's what friends are for…to help you out."

"I refuse to take advantage of my friends like that!"

"Then pretend you're Jack Dalton!"

MacGyver hung his head and laughed wryly.

"Funny you should mention Jack. The first thing I did was try to call my loan in, but it's so soon and his business is still in the red."

"There's gotta be a way," Joanna murmured, putting a comforting hand on his knee.

"There is." He stood up and turned to look at the car.

Joanna could remain stoic no longer as he saw fear then pain cloud her eyes.

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking," she pleaded.

"If I find the right buyer I'll get enough for the initial rent and then some," he told her matter-of-factly.

"But it was your grandfather's!"

"I still have his cabin," Mac shrugged. "Besides, I hardly drive her anymore. I'm just one guy, I don't need two cars."

"So just like that you're gonna sell the Nomad?" Jo challenged.

"Yeah!" he snapped back. "It's the only logical choice."

"Well, then" Joanna declared, standing up and resting her hands on her hips. "I'll buy it. You can even have visitation rights."

"I told you I'm not gonna take your money."

"No," she retorted. "You said you weren't going to let me _give_ you the money. Consider this a business transaction as if I were any other classic car aficionado."

Mac studied the rigid set of her jaw and the gleam in her eye that suggested she was spoiling for a fight. He might not win this one. Actually, he might not want to. He jammed his splayed fingers through his hair and groaned.

"Fine. You win! I'll agree to take the _loan_ you are offering, but I'm gonna pay you back every cent," he promised.

"Take your time," she said, flashing him a victorious grin.

Awed by the generous, stubborn, beautiful woman in front of him, Mac could contain his emotions no longer. He cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand and lowered his lips to hers in a silent, all-consuming expression of his gratitude.

XXXXX

The tickling in his nostrils roused MacGyver enough to realize two things. His nose was being assaulted by the spicy aroma of Indian food, and soft fingers were gently playing with the hair gathered at the nape of his neck. He raised his head from his desk to find Joanna standing beside him.

"How late is it?" he asked groggily.

"Too late to be eating that stuff," she grimaced, pointing to the take-out containers before him.

"Then why'd you bring it?"

"I knew you'd want it," she shrugged.

Ever since securing the building, Mac had been spending his days at the law firm and his evenings in his office at what was now known as Challengers. It was a well-known fact that he hated paperwork, and he had sorely underestimated the number of forms and reports that were required for his new venture. However, he didn't mind it so much since he knew the eventual outcome would far outweigh his current misery. His ultimate goal was to have the club open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to provide safety and shelter to anyone who needed it. However, his immediate plans were much more modest. He planned to have the club open from mid-afternoon through early evening so kids who normally went home from school to empty houses or out on the streets would have a safe, friendly place to pass the time.

"How's it going?" Joanna asked, nodding toward the papers scattered across his desk.

"Okay, I guess," Mac answered before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

"You can't go on like this," Jo protested. "You're gonna make yourself sick." Mac stopped eating long enough to give her a pointed look, but she continued, "Surely you know someone who can at least help out until the club is up and running."

Silence hung in the air as each considered the options.

"What about Cynthia Wilson?" Jo asked excitedly. "Didn't you say that she and her husband started Challengers in Los Angeles from the ground up?"

MacGyver was about to protest, to tell Joanna that Cynthia had cut ties with Challengers, but it died on his lips. He remembered running into her in L.A. after Jack had his accident. She had happily stepped in and took charge of the club when it was short-handed. He could at least call her and maybe get some advice.

Three days later Mac parked the Nomad in front of a hangar at a small, municipal airport a few miles from the city where Jack had temporarily parked his almost-new (a term he preferred over 'slightly-used') Cessna after flying in from Los Angeles. Cynthia emerged from the building with Jack a few steps behind.

"Thanks so much for coming!" Mac greeted her with a hug. "How was your flight?"

"Oh, MacGyver! It is so good to see you again!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Jack is a wonderful pilot! He handled the turbulence so smoothly!"

Mac cocked an eyebrow at his friend, "Turbulence?"

"Well…uh…still getting used to the new controls. They're pretty sensitive," Jack explained with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Ah," was all Mac could say.

The trio headed straight to Challengers and Mac's friends were duly impressed upon entering the building.

"It's absolutely perfect!" Cynthia gushed, her smile wide and eyes twinkling. MacGyver didn't think he had seen her this enthused since Booker's death.

"You've done good, Compadre!" Jack congratulated him with a slap on the back.

"You can use my office while you're here," Mac told Cynthia as he led them into a small room.

Cynthia looked at the papers and file folders strewn across the top of an old wooden desk and then at MacGyver.

"I was gonna clean up," Mac replied sheepishly to her unvoiced observation, "But I didn't want to get rid of anything you might need."

The woman simply gave him a knowing smile and a nod. "Before I get started, perhaps I could freshen up a bit?"

"Of course!" Mac quickly agreed.

Minutes later they were standing in MacGyver's living room where Joanna had just finished cleaning and now stood by his side.

"Cynthia Wilson, I'd like you to meet Joanna Fairfax," MacGyver said as he introduced the two women.

Cynthia smiled and reached out, taking Jo's hand in both of hers, giving it an approving squeeze. "So you're the young woman who has stolen MacGyver's heart," she proclaimed rather than asked. "I can't wait to get to know you better!"

Mac cleared his throat to get Joanna's attention. "And of course you remember Jack Dalton."

"A hard man to forget," she answered with a warm smile that held a touch of humor as she offered her hand to the pilot.

"Ah, _mon cheri!_ You're looking lovely as ever!" Jack gallantly swept off his aviator's hat, bowed, and kissed the back of her hand while Mac glared at him.

"Cynthia, you take the bed upstairs," MacGyver directed after a few moments, "I'll just take the couch."

"What about me?" Jack asked.

"What about you?" Mac queried.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"In a motel, Jack. There's one real close and it even has free HBO."

Jack dramatically placed both hands over his heart and staggered backwards with a gasp.

"You would exile your best friend, who, by the way, just did you a big favor, to a cold, lonely motel room?!"

MacGyver rolled his eyes, but Joanna was more sympathetic.

"Well, if it's going to be a problem you could—"

"Sleep in the motel with all the other lonely people," Mac asserted, cutting her off.

"Fine!" Jack huffed. "But you remember this the next time you think about asking me for another favor!"

"Yeah, yeah," Mac replied languidly as he started to close the door behind Jack.

"Wait a minute," Jack retorted with his foot keeping the door open. "If you're kickin' me out of the nest I'm gonna need some wheels."

MacGyver sighed and considered the Jeep and Nomad parked in the driveway. Grudgingly, he plucked a keychain from the brass sailboat nailed to the wall next to the door and dropped the keys into Jack's outstretched hand.

"You can take my Jeep. But _be careful_!" Mac warned

"Gracias, amigo!" Jack grinned and fairly skipped to the car. "Hasta manana!" He called.

MacGyver dropped his chin to his chest and groaned. "I think I've just made a very big mistake." Joanna stood next to him, rubbing his back in commiseration as they watched Jack back the Jeep out of the drive and peel off down the street.

The next morning, Mac drove Cynthia to the Challengers Club on his way to the law firm. He was surprised to find Jack there and waiting for them in the parking lot.

"What are you doing here?" he asked his friend. "I thought you'd be half way to L.A. by now."

Jack shrugged. "What can I say? Business is slow so I thought I'd hang around for a few days. Maybe help out."

This took Mac by surprise. He studied his friend's face carefully, awaiting the left-eye-twitch that would indicate Jack was up to something more than just wanting to help out, but the tell-tale eye remained steady as a rock.

"I'm not lyin' to you, Mac," Jack confirmed. "No tricks, no schemes, nothin'. I just wanna help."

"Sorry. Force of habit," Mac grimaced before returning to his car and heading to work. In a way, it was nice to have Jack around again. He forgot how much he missed his conniving, scheming, lying, absolute best friend.

That evening MacGyver returned to Challengers to pick up Cynthia. To his surprise, his borrowed Jeep was still in the parking lot in the same place it had been this morning. Had Jack spent the entire day here? When Mac entered the building he stopped short. The place was so clean it practically sparkled. The game tables, including the air hockey table he had resurrected from a storage unit, had been placed strategically throughout the recreation area. The scent of pine and disinfectant hung in the air.

He entered his…er…Cynthia's office and was once again shocked by the transformation. The papers that had covered the desk were gone, the furniture was neatly arranged, and Cynthia was working away on the computer as Jack leaned back in chair across from her.

"Wow! You guys have been busy!" Mac exclaimed.

Cynthia looked up at him with a gentle smile and Jack turned around, smiling widely.

"It really wasn't that bad, MacGyver," she assured him. "I just tidied up a bit."

That was an understatement!

"And it looks like things are right on track for us to have the grand opening next week."

"Couldn't have done it without your help," Mac told her. He felt a bit chagrinned that after all his hard work and sleepless nights Cynthia had managed to get the place in order in a matter of hours.

"Are you feeling all right?" Jack asked him skeptically.

"Sure. Why?"

"You look a little pale."

"Guess I'm just tired. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."


	8. Nemesis

_**A/N: For the purpose of this chapter and beyond, I am using MacGyver's birth date of March 23rd as referenced in the episode "Friends".**_

 ****This chapter is dedicated to my friend, Sanguine, and her special guy: Thanks for (im)\patiently waiting:)  
**

 **Nemesis**

MacGyver ran his finger around the stiffly starched collar of his tuxedo shirt as butterflies flitted wildly in his stomach. He never thought this day would ever come. The priest standing next to him put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Sam, as best man, stood on his other side with a wide grin on his face. Giving up on his collar, Mac ran his hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down to no avail. He had offered to get it cut for the wedding, but, after months of insisting he do just that, his bride had taken him to task saying she wanted to marry him and every single too-long hair on his head. The music started, and as Frog ambled down the aisle toward the alter with two modest gold rings tied to his collar with a white satin ribbon, MacGyver looked out over the small group of family, close friends, and colleagues who would witness this momentous occasion.

The tempo of the organ changed and his attention turned to the back of the church where she stood. Joanna. His Joanna. For now and for always. The nervousness he had felt only moments ago left his body in one, slow breath as he focused on the woman he loved walking toward him. Her steps sure and her face serene as she walked down the long aisle on her father's arm. At Mac's request, she had foregone the traditional white gown and instead wore the outfit she had on the first time he saw her. A black hat with a red bow accessorized her slim black skirt, white blouse, and red blazer, along with the small bouquet of white calla lilies she carried.

Side by side they faced the priest and exchanged the sacred, age-old vows. When it came time for objections, they each looked playfully over their shoulder as if daring anyone to speak. Suddenly, the back door of the church crashed open and a familiar figure appeared.

"Starting the party without me, MacGyver? How uncivilized!"

"Murdoc!" Mac growled under his breath. He took a step forward but Jo's firm hand on his bicep kept him in place.

"Apparently my invitation got lost in the mail," the unwelcome guest said flippantly as he moved out of the shadows towards them.

MacGyver's gaze immediately locked on to the semi-automatic weapon his nemesis held casually in his hands.

"Why don't we take this outside, Murdoc," Mac ground out as he tried to control the anger that seethed through his veins. "It's me you want." He felt Jo's grip on his arm tighten in protest.

"What's the matter, MacGyver?" Murdoc mocked. "Haven't you ever heard of collateral damage?" And then chaos reigned.

Upon hearing Murdoc's maniacal laughter, MacGyver pushed Joanna to the floor, shielding her with his body, as his ears were assaulted with the horrified cries and screams of their loved ones above the steady tattoo of the gun firing off sprays of bullets.

When all became quiet once more, Mac was acutely aware of Joanna's erratic breathing beneath him even as his own heart pounded. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look up and see the carnage that must be all around them. This was all his fault. He was responsible for protecting the people in his life from Murdoc and he had failed. He took a deep breath and—

MacGyver shot straight up in bed, gasping for air. His hair was damp and beads of sweat trickled down his face and neck. He began twisting the smooth gold band around his finger in what had now become a self-soothing gesture. He felt the mattress shift as Joanna laid a cool, comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Another nightmare?" she whispered, as she always did.

Mac nodded, knowing she could see even though dawn was a long way off.

"Wanna talk about it?" she asked, in the same gentle voice she always did.

Mac shook his head. How could he tell her that his subconscious had turned their beautiful, special day into a no-holds-barred massacre?

"Okay," she replied, smoothing his hair as she always did before lying down with her back to him.

He mirrored her motion, wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her close and held her tight as he always did before drifting back into dreamless slumber.

When MacGyver awoke again, he was alone in bed, a shaft of sunlight streaming through the window. He yawned and stretched like a lazy, contented cat. He smiled when he heard the whir of the blender. Joanna was already fixing a protein shake for his breakfast. He scrubbed his face with his hands as he debated whether or not to get out of bed and take a shower. Before he could decide, he heard a knock at the door.

"Hi. Can I help you?" Jo asked amiably.

"Ah, you must be MacGyver's new bride. I must say you look particularly fetching this morning."

Mac's blood ran cold as he immediately pulled on the jeans and sweatshirt he had discarded on the floor the night before and ran down the spiral staircase.

"Murdoc! You're supposed to be dead!"

"Obviously I am quite alive and well," the killer replied in his British accent, allowing an evil grin to curl his lips.

"But I watched you die! I saw your _dead_ body in the morgue!"

"Do you always believe what you see, MacGyver? Science and technology these days is a wondrous thing if you have access to the right people and, fortunately for me, I do!"

By this time Mac had maneuvered himself so he was standing between Joanna and his long-time nemesis.

"What do you want, Murdoc?" he growled.

"Aside from killing you?"

Mac took that as a rhetorical question and remained silent.

"I wanted to come and wish you happy on your marriage."

"You're eight months too late," Mac replied in a menacing tone.

"Well, it isn't my fault I didn't get an invitation now, is it?"

"Get out of here, Murdoc, and don't come back." Mac was growling again.

"Aw, you know I can't do that, MacGyver. At least, not until I kill you."

MacGyver glanced behind him and saw the surprise and fear in Jo's eyes.

"Don't worry. I'm not interested in her."

"So what's your plan? You gonna shoot me? Blow me up?"

Murdoc grinned slowly as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out an ornate blade and waved it in MacGyver's face.

"I thought this time I would get up close and personal. I'm not letting you escape again."

Mac sensed, rather than felt Joanna's muscles tense and before he knew what was happening she bolted out from behind him to stand between him and Murdoc.

"Get out of my house _now_!" she shouted, pointing to the door.

"My, my. You picked a feisty one, MacGyver. Too bad you won't be around to enjoy her!"

"I told you to get out!" Joanna yelled, planting the palms of her hands on Murdoc's chest and pushing him hard.

Momentarily caught off-guard, Murdoc wavered a step before regaining his balance and shoving her to the floor.

"You said you were gonna leave her alone!" Mac protested as he knelt beside Jo to ensure she was unharmed.

"Well, she started it," Murdoc replied like a petulant child. "Come now, MacGyver. Let's get on with it. I have places to go, people to see."

Mac rose, pulling Joanna up with him and once again placing her behind him as they slowly walked backward into the living room, Mac's eyes frantically searching for a weapon.

Murdoc began to raise the knife. "Time's up, MacGyver," he pronounced with a victorious gleam in his eye.

The next few seconds played out before Mac's eyes in slow motion. Joanna screamed and once again stepped out from the shelter of his body just as Murdoc waved the knife not to stab, but to slash into MacGyver's flesh, accidentally connecting Joanna's jugular instead. She immediately crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around her head. Mac collapsed beside her, searching frantically for a pulse, but there was none.

"Nooooo!" he cried, before holding her lifeless body close to him and showering her pale face with gentle kisses. Leaning back on his heels he began to sob uncontrollably and when he looked up again, Murdoc was gone.

XXXXX

Somehow MacGyver managed to sleepwalk through the next few days. A steady stream of friends would call or drop by to offer their condolences. He took the phone off the hook and stopped answering the door after the first day. He spent hours scrubbing Joanna's blood from the carpet. The stain was gone, but nothing could erase the memory. Why hadn't Murdoc killed him when he had been helplessly grieving over Jo's body? Thrust the blade that had killed his wife into his own back. Mac would much rather have died with her than continue to live without her. His worst nightmare had come true but he couldn't decide which was crueler: Not acting on his feelings for Joanna until they only had a short time to spend together, or allowing himself to have those feelings in the first place.

The day of the funeral, a brisk March wind buffeted the mourners who had gathered at the gravesite for one last farewell. Believing she would never marry, Joanna had arranged to be buried next to the plots of her parents' eventual entombment. MacGyver had no idea where his remains would eventually end up. Even in death they would not be reunited. After one final, heart-felt prayer, the small group hurriedly dispersed to the relative warmth of their waiting vehicles. Mac saw Pete and Sam approaching so he began walking the opposite way, a silent signal that he wanted to be left alone. Suddenly, Murdoc stepped out from behind a large oak tree.

"What are you doing here, Murdoc," Mac demanded.

"Can't a gentleman come and pay his respects?"

"You're no gentleman," MacGyver rounded on the man. "You _killed_ her!"

"It truly was an accident," Murdoc said, almost apologetically. "I've been watching you two for some time now and I almost kind of, sort of, liked her."

Mac grunted and kept walking.

"So how have you been passing your time?"

"None of your business."

"If I were you, I would be plotting ways to avenge my wife's murder."

MacGyver stopped walking and glared at Murdoc. "How? Pistols at dawn?"

"No, no. Not your style. I pegged you for a shoot-out at high noon type of guy. But then again, you don't care to play with guns, do you?"

"I might be persuaded to make an exception," Mac murmured causing Murdoc to chuckle.

"Really MacGyver, when, where, and how would you like to die? You see, I'm really quite flexible and I do aim to please."

"Why don't you just shoot me now and get it over with?"

"It's not that simple anymore. You see, I have to decide which would amuse me more. A dead MacGyver, or a grieving one."

"A dead man can't kill you," Mac pointed out.

"Well, there is that. And I _have_ made it my life's goal to see you to your grave. For once I must agree with you, let's be done with it here and now."

Murdoc reached into his coat lining and pulled out two pistols.

"You're a walking arsenal, aren't you?" Mac observed wryly. "Do you have a machete duct taped to your leg?"

"No," Murdoc replied thoughtfully. "But that isn't a bad idea. Now quit stalling and choose a weapon."

With hesitant steps and a heavy heart, MacGyver approached Murdoc and took one of the offered guns. He tested its weight and balance. It felt good. Real good. Too good. All these years he had fought against guns, and now he was going to use one to terminate his immortal enemy. Or, if he was lucky, Murdoc's bullet would kill him first.

So this was it. There, in a deserted section of the cemetery, one or both of them would die, killed by the other's hand. They counted their paces, turned, and leveled their guns at each other. Looking Murdoc straight in the eye, MacGyver slowly applied pressure to the trigger. Millimeter by millimeter, click by click he came closer to firing the bullet until finally, one last squeeze would release the round. He closed his eyes, gave the trigger one final press, and waited for a shot that never came.

XXXXX

MacGyver's head pounded, his throat was dry, and every muscle in his body ached. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself staring at a ceiling. His ceiling. He moaned.

"He's coming out of it!" a female voice said excitedly.

"Thank God," another female voice replied, this one sounding relieved.

The voices were familiar, but he couldn't quite place them. He tried to lift his head and sit up, but his weakened body refused to obey and he slumped back onto the sofa cushion.

"Here, you need to drink something," the second voice said.

Mac lifted his head again, this time more slowly and, with the support of a gentle hand, took a sip of water from the glass held out to him. Suddenly, he was so thirsty he couldn't get enough. He began to greedily gulp the precious liquid until it was suddenly pulled away.

"Not too much right away," he was told.

He turned his head to find himself looking into the most beautiful pair of sable brown eyes he had ever seen. Eyes he knew and loved from the very first time he had seen them.

"Jo," he croaked. "I thought you got…I saw you get…killed!" His eyes welled with tears. She was alive! It had all been a dream! A cruel, heartbreaking rendering of his greatest fear played out in his subconscious.

Joanna smiled softly as she gently wiped his face with a cool, damp cloth.

"What time is it?" he rasped.

"It's late. And now that your fever has broken you need to rest."

"But—"

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Jo insisted before smoothing back his hair and walking away. He yearned to reach out to her. To hold her tight and never let go. But his arms were too weak.

The next morning MacGyver sat on the couch carefully spooning warm, clear broth into his mouth. Joanna had placed a napkin under his chin as if he were a tot. In all honesty, he felt as weak as a newborn babe. When his bowl was empty, Jo took it from him and placed it on the coffee table before settling next to him on the couch, apparently ready to answer all the questions he had. He decided to start with the basics.

"What day is it?" he asked, his voice stronger now.

"It's Saturday. You've been asleep for almost forty-eight hours."

His heart skipped a beat. He had slept for two whole days?

"You've had a bad case of the flu," Jo explained before he could even ask. At least that accounted for his physical state.

"Who was here with you when I woke up last night?"

"Cynthia. She called me when your fevered spiked. She thought you were becoming delirious."

"Was I?"

"Depends on who you ask," Jo teased.

Panic set in as things began to fall into place. "What about Challengers? The grand opening is soon!"

"Relax. Everything is fine. In fact, we're ahead of schedule. Cynthia said that with you out of the way she was able to get a lot more work done. And Jack's been a big help as well. We all took turns taking care of you."

"When is it? The grand opening?" he asked.

"A week from tomorrow," Jo replied.

Mac's flu-fogged brain tried to do some calculations but failed miserably.

"What date is that?" he asked.

"The twenty-third. Why?"

" _March_ twenty-third?" His birthday.

"Yeah, is there a problem?" Jo asked cautiously.

"No…I just…no," he shook his head.

"Can I ask some questions now?" she queried.

"Sure."

"Tell me about that dream you had."

"That's not a question."

"Close enough," she said with a shrug and he chuckled.

"It was nothing," he told her, trying to protect her from the gruesome memory.

"Last night you said you thought I was dead! To me that is _not_ 'nothing'!"

Mac took a deep breath and related the details of his fevered dream. By the time he was done, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She had moved closer to him as he told his tale and now rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she whispered huskily.

He kissed the top of her head but didn't respond. When the silence reached an uncomfortable level, she raised her head and caught his eye.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked. "And don't say it's nothing."

MacGyver gazed unseeingly across the room. "I willingly used a gun to try and kill someone," he said flatly, hardly recognizing the sound of his own voice. "I betrayed everything I believe in, everything I fight against!"

"Mac, it was only a dream," Jo responded firmly.

"But if I was willing to do that in a dream, a part of me must be willing to do it in real life. Have I just been living a lie all these years? Am I a hypocrite?"

"Angus, listen to me," Joanna instructed in her firm teacher voice. "You are _not_ a hypocrite and never could be. You have no control over your dreams or your actions in them, but in real life you _do_ have control. You have morals and values and make choices accordingly. You are the same man you were before you had that dream and I, for one, am pleased that you wished to avenge me."

Mac felt a weight lift from his chest. She was right. He was in control. And he would do anything for her.

"One more thing," she prompted, looking like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. "You said in your dream we were married. What was it like?"

His heart swelled. "From what I could tell, it was pretty darn amazing."


	9. Grand Opening (aka: Mac's Birthday)

**Grand Opening (aka: Mac's Birthday)  
**

MacGyver recovered rapidly once his fever broke. Against Joanna's protests, he went into work Monday morning to hand in his resignation and finish up his assigned work. Throughout the week, he was plagued with anxiety about the date of Challengers grand opening. Was it just a coincidence that it was scheduled on his birthday? Both Jack and Pete knew when his birthday was, and they both knew how he felt about celebrating it, especially publicly, but he couldn't recall ever telling Joanna. Not that it was some big secret, it had just never come up. He made sure to keep a keen eye on his friends to detect any changes in behavior or attitude, especially around him, that might tip him off that they were planning something but found none. Either they were really good actors, or he was losing his edge, or it really was just a coincidence. Oddly enough, that last thought came with a pang of disappointment which he quickly quelled.

Sunday morning MacGyver pulled the Nomad into the Challengers parking lot to find Joanna's Chevy and his Jeep already there along with a handful of cars he didn't recognize. He smiled when he spotted a nondescript sedan with Illinois plates. Pete and Connie had driven up for the big day. He walked into the center to find it humming with activity. Cynthia looked up and greeted him from the registration table where she was giving last minute instructions to Rosie Garcia and her son, Raul.

"Look, MacGyver!" the young teen said, holding a piece of paper in front of Mac's face so close that it tickled his nose, "I'm your first official member!"

"All right!" Mac exclaimed, giving Raul a high five before walking further into the room.

The large recreation area was decorated with colorful balloons and crepe paper streamers. Jack appeared to be in charge of a group of adults and children who were hanging hand-painted banners encouraging kids to stay in school and away from drugs, gangs, and violence. Pete sat on a worn couch next to a young Hispanic girl who was jabbering away. Apparently he found her amusing if his wide grin was any indication. At the far end of the room, Connie and Joanna fussed over the refreshment table which included a big bowl of punch and a large sheet cake.

"Wow! Things are really coming together," Mac observed as he approached the two women. He nonchalantly glanced at the writing on the cake which simply said 'Welcome to Challengers'. He frowned, but then again, what had he been expecting? He certainly didn't want it to say 'Happy Birthday, Mac!'

"Mac?" Joanna's voice cut through his thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

Joanna smiled at him warmly as their gazes locked. All thoughts of his birthday fled.

"You can thank Jack and Cynthia for that," she told him. "They made up informational flyers promoting the club and asking for volunteers and posted them all over the neighborhood. Apparently the community was thirsting for a place like this."

The doors opened to the public at noon, and the following hours whizzed by for MacGyver. A steady stream of people came and went. Most were simply curious while others, like some former Challengers Academy students, were eager to register. Still others came for the free food. Mac spent the afternoon shaking hands and speaking with the visitors, engaging in friendly games of pool and air hockey, and evening demonstrating some of the exercise equipment that was available. It wasn't until early evening, after the final guests left and he locked the door behind them, that he noticed Joanna was nowhere to be found.

"Oh, she went home with a headache a while ago," Connie informed him when asked about Jo's whereabouts.

"Why didn't she tell me?" he muttered.

Connie smiled brightly. "She probably didn't want to worry you and spoil the big day."

"Yeah, sure," he replied softly.

"And I'm afraid it's time for Pete and me to head home as well," Connie continued. "I'd like to stay and help clean up, but Sunday traffic can be so insufferable."

"Don't worry about it. I can take it from here," he assured her as he hugged her goodbye. "You just drive safe, okay?"

Mac then turned to Pete who now stood next to his wife. He reached out and shook his friend's hand before the two embraced.

"Congratulations, Mac," Pete said. "If the decibel level in the place this afternoon was any indication, Challengers is sure to be an absolute success!"

After the Thornton's left, MacGyver rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and began collecting paper plates, cups, and other trash that had been strewn about. He was just about to take the garbage container out to the dumpster when Cynthia appeared at his side, placing a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Why don't you go on home," she suggested. "Jack and I can take care of this."

Mac glanced across the room to where his friend was dismantling the decorations and felt a twinge of guilt.

"Naw, you guys did all the set up earlier, the least I can do is stick around and help clean up," Mac protested.

"Look," Cynthia continued, "Tomorrow is your first official day as director of the Challengers Club. Go home and relax while you still can."

"I'd do what she says," Jack called from where he was sweeping up streamers. "Run like the wind before she changes her mind!"

MacGyver knew when he was beat. "All right, I'll go home. But promise you won't stay too late. I can take care of what's left in the morning."

"It's a deal," she said with a smile. "And don't worry, Jack will bring me back to your place when we're done."

Mac thanked his friends one last time before heading out into the night. As he pulled the Nomad into his driveway, he reached up to press the garage door remote control he kept on the visor, but it wasn't there. He put the car in "Park" and let the engine idle as he ran his hand over the seat, the floor, and under the seat with no luck. With a suppressed groan he turned off the ignition and headed to the townhouse. He'd look again tomorrow. As he unlocked his front door he noticed a warm glow coming from the corner of his living room. Had he turned on a lamp before he left? Or did he forget to turn it off? Good grief, he knew he was getting older, but was he also getting senile? Wasn't he still too young for that? The door swung open and he crossed the threshold to find Joanna sitting at his kitchen table, smiling coyly, his Team USA hockey jersey hanging loosely on her frame. Did she have any idea how incredibly attractive she was to him when she wore his clothes? Tired, stunned, and confused at the sight before him, he struggled to find an appropriate greeting.

"I thought you had a headache?" he blurted out before squeezing his eyes shut at the blunt greeting.

She laughed lightly, almost playfully. "That was just an excuse so I could sneak out of the party early."

"Where's your car?" he asked, before mentally whacking himself upside the head for this stupid line of questioning.

"In the garage."

His face must have gone as blank as his mind because she kept talking.

"Earlier today Jack gave me the door remote from the Jeep and then took the one out of the Nomad so I could surprise you," she explained as she stood up and slowly walked towards him.

MacGyver swallowed hard, his eyes glued on the woman now standing in front of him. Was she trying to seduce him? But they had talked about this and had an agreement. Joanna may be a lot of things, but she _wasn't_ a tease. Belatedly he saw the frown on her face.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm wearing this," she said uncertainly, taking a step back and plucking at the silky fabric. "I spilled some punch on my sweater earlier and wanted to rinse it out as soon as possible."

It was then that he noticed she still wore her jeans and loafers from the grand opening and he suddenly became aware of Frog snoring from underneath the coffee table, the scent of chocolate permeating the air, and a scrumptious looking dessert sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked with a grin as his good senses returned.

Joanna grinned back. "If you think it's my famous chocolate-hazelnut cake, then yes it is." She then set to work fetching plates, forks, and glasses of milk.

"What's the occasion?" he asked.

"As if you don't know," she replied in a give-me-a-break tone of voice as she cut a piece of cake and set it in front of him.

"How did you find out?"

"Jack told me," she shrugged. "So how did you like your present?"

"It's delicious," he mumbled around a mouthful of cake.

"I meant the present at Challengers."

"What present?" He was definitely getting senile.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "Jack wanted to use the grand opening as a cover for a surprise party, but Pete managed to talk him out of it."

"So let me get this straight. My birthday present was to _not_ have a party?"

Joanna nodded. "Unless you count this," she nodded toward their plates. "I hope you don't mind."

The concerned look on her face just about broke his heart.

"I think this is just about the best birthday I've ever had," he assured her. "By the way, did I ever tell you about the time Pete threw a surprise party for me at Phoenix?"

Having just taken a big bite of cake, Jo simply shook her head.

Mac took a long swig of milk before settling into his story. "I'd been working with Pete for about seven years or so. I had just gotten back from a mission and the only reason I even survived it was just dumb luck. Jack disguised himself and 'kidnapped' me from my apartment. I was so jetlagged I didn't even bother fighting back. Of course, we ended up at Phoenix where all my friends and co-workers were waiting to surprise me. I think the funniest part of the whole night was seeing Pete in a party hat."

Joanna giggled at that as she got up and cleared away their dishes and together they headed for the couch. Mac plopped down wearily, pulling Jo down next to him and putting his arms around her loosely before he continued.

"So then, instead of presents, everyone started telling stories about how I had helped them or rescued them. Even people who couldn't be there had sent mementoes to remind me of them and how we had met." Here he stopped and gazed blankly across the room. "Then I asked Pete to draw up resignation papers for me," he said flatly.

"What?!" Joanna slipped out of his grasp and turned towards him, her eyes wide, her jaw slack. The sight would have normally made Mac chuckle, but tonight he was too caught up in his memories.

"I had had it, Jo," he started to explain. "Every person in that room reminded me of a time I had gotten shot at, blown up, kidnapped…I just wanted to be done with it. To go home to Minnesota and lead a normal life. Maybe get married and have a kid."

"What made you change your mind?" she asked softly, her brown eyes full of sympathy.

Mac sighed. "I realized that it was all those crazy, dangerous assignments that had brought these people into my life, and I would've missed out on a lot of love and friendship if I hadn't been there to help them out. I didn't want that to end."

"Well I, for one, am glad you decided to stay," Jo replied with a playful grin.

"And why is that?" he smiled back.

"Because if you had resigned back then, I never would have met you."

"Hmmm, and that would have been the worst tragedy of all," Mac mused as he leaned in close, intending to kiss her for all he was worth. Unfortunately, as with so many of his best laid plans from over the years, he had to quickly abort the idea as Cynthia came walking through the front door.

"Oh, I didn't mean to intrude," she apologized. "It's just that we got everything cleaned up and…"

"Don't worry about it," Mac admonished as he quickly got to his feet and gave his friend a hug. "It's our fault. I guess we lost track of the time."

"Yeah," Joanna agreed, also rising. "I should really be going anyway. I'm sure my sweater's dry by now."

"Actually, I'm glad you're both here. There's something I'd like to discuss with you," Cynthia said, suddenly seeming nervous and unsure of herself.

"What's going on, Cynthia?" MacGyver asked once all three of them were seated at his kitchen table.

Cynthia reached out and put her small, soft hand over Mac's larger one. "First of all, I want you to know what a wonderful time I've had helping get Challengers off the ground. Rattling around that old, empty house in Los Angeles made me forget how much I enjoy sinking my teeth into a project and feeling that my actions are making a difference. I've felt so lonely and useless lately, and it felt so good to be needed again."

"Well, I sure couldn't have done all this without you," Mac confided.

"That brings me to my second point," Cynthia continued with more confidence. "I'd really like to stay and be a part of Challengers. Permanently."

MacGyver opened his mouth to respond, but his friend cut him off.

"I know money's tight right now, but I have some saved up. Jack has been helping me apartment hunt in our spare time and I found a furnished efficiency that would suit me just fine. Do you think you could find a way to keep me on?"

Instead of answering the question, Mac turned to Joanna. "Could you please cut this lady a piece of birthday cake," he instructed in his most serious tone. "She's gonna need all the strength she can get if she's going to be the co-director of Challengers Club!"

 _ **A/N: I really do make a chocolate-hazelnut cake (also known as Nutella Cake) and it's naturally gluten free! Please PM me if you want the recipe!**_


	10. Reunited: Part 1

**Chapter 10: Reunited: Part 1**

MacGyver couldn't believe that Challengers had been officially open for over a week already. New members continued to join daily as did community volunteers. Cynthia had the office running like a well-oiled machine and he easily fell into the familiar role of mentor, troubleshooter, and all around jack-of-all-trades except when it came to paperwork. And speaking of Jack, he had found ways to make himself quietly useful, which was a bit odd for Jack Dalton. Mac knew that one day he'd turn around and his friend would be gone, but for now he'd take whatever help he could get. Even Frog had found a place in his master's new venture. Mac had taken the canine to the Club the second day it was open to save Charlie from the dog's cries if Mac didn't get home on schedule. Since then, every morning found the pooch panting excitedly by the front door as MacGyver prepared to leave for the day. Before he knew it, Frog had taken over a corner at Challengers complete with a doggie bed, blanket, food and water bowls, and toys. The kids loved him and he had quickly become somewhat of a mascot. Mac was, however, concerned about Joanna. She still worked full time at the law firm but was at Challengers every evening tutoring or supervising the ever-growing group of teens and adolescents. While he appreciated her help and commitment, he didn't want her taking on too much. But again, he chose to remain silent, realizing that this was about the only time they got to spend together. That was going to have to change, and Cynthia saw to it that it would happen tonight. She had made MacGyver promise to pick up Joanna, go home early, and eat a proper dinner.

Swallowing the last bite of the zucchini lasagna Jo had prepared for them, he reached across his narrow kitchen table and took her hand, idly playing with her fingers.

"This is nice," he commented softly. "Just you, me, and food."

Jo chuckled lightly. "Oddly enough, I know what you mean. Can you believe that for the first time since we met we're not working together all day long?"

"Yeah," he replied lowly as he weaved his fingers through hers. "I've missed you."

She looked up shyly, her brown eyes full of questions as they both realized they could no longer hide behind titles like 'co-worker' and 'friend'. They were in a full-fledged relationship and they were going to have to find ways to make it work now that life had gotten between them. Both lost in their thoughts, they started when Jack knocked on the door before letting himself in.

"Oops! I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said a bit belatedly causing Mac and Jo to quickly refocus on the present moment.

"You? Interrupt? Never!" Mac replied sarcastically as he prepared to throw Jack out. He finally had an entire evening alone with Joanna and no one was going to take it from him!

"Well, ya see," Jack began as he deftly slipped past MacGyver and into the room, "I was planning on leaving tomorrow and wanted to drop off your Jeep—"

"Then don't let me keep you," Mac cut him off, putting a guiding hand on his friend's shoulder.

"When I found this!" Jack finished in a rush. He held a rumpled piece of paper up to MacGyver's face.

"What is it?" Mac scowled as Joanna came to take a look as well.

"It's an invitation to our high school reunion. I found it crushed up in your glove compartment."

MacGyver's eyes narrowed and his voice became dangerously low. "And just what, exactly, were you doing digging around in my glove compartment?"

"Ummm, looking for a tire pressure gauge?" His left eye twitched furiously.

"Jaaack!"

"All right, all right! I was looking for your registration," he confessed dejectedly.

Mac continued to glare at him.

"Ya see, I was driving over to Challengers, minding my own business—"

"Jack!"

"Fine! I got pulled over for speeding. Okay?!"

Mac blew out a sigh and threw up his hands in resignation.

"Don't worry about it. The cop was this real cute number and I managed to talk her into letting me off with just a warning. Anyway, that's when I found this," he shook the paper for emphasis. "Why didn't you tell me about it? And more importantly, why didn't _I_ get one?"

"You probably didn't get one because they couldn't _find_ you," Mac snarled.

"Well, it's generally best if people don't know exactly where to reach me," Jack murmured, half to himself. "But why didn't you say anything?"

"I honestly forgot all about it," MacGyver replied, his voice and temper returning to normal. "It's not even time for our class reunion."

"So when did that ever stop Mission City High from having a party?" Jack countered. "Are you going?"

"No, I'm not going. Would I have wadded up the invitation and tossed it in my glove compartment if I planned on going?!"

"Afraid an ex-girlfriend might try to kill you again?" Jack laughed.

For the first time since this pointless conversation began, MacGyver became aware of Joanna standing next to him. She cleared her throat and cocked her eyebrow.

"No, Jack," Mac replied firmly. "I just don't have any desire to reconnect with people I haven't seen in almost 30 years. Besides, I got that so long ago it's probably too late anyway."

"Oh, contraire, Kemosabe! According to the invitation, it's this weekend. We still have time."

"We?"

"Yeah! You and me, amigo! It'll be a blast!"

Mac scrambled for a logical response.

"We can't go because I didn't RSVP," he stated.

Jack waved off the excuse. "Nobody RSVP's anymore! I'm sure there'll be enough food for everyone. We can be the surprise guests!"

MacGyver caught his friend's twinkling eyes and his resolve began to melt.

"But this is a busy time at Challengers and it's a pretty long drive…"

"No problemo. We can fly up in my plane! Just promise me you'll think about it! I'll see ya tomorrow!" Jack called as he headed for the door.

"Hey, wait! What about the keys to my Jeep?"

"I'll still need them if I'm staying 'til the weekend," Jack replied flippantly as he closed the door behind him.

Mac turned with a sigh to Joanna only to find her brow furrowed in thought.

"Maybe you should go with Jack," she suggested. "It might be fun."

"No. No way," MacGyver protested. "I am not going _anywhere_ , much less to my class reunion, with Jack! If I have a weekend away from Challengers I'm gonna spend it with you." He looped his arms around her waist and an unbidden plan clicked in his brain.

"On second thought, maybe I _should_ go to the reunion." He smiled when he saw the surprise in her eyes. "With you."

"What about Jack?" she teased.

"Oh, I suppose we could bring him along, as our personal pilot, of course."

Joanna's face turned pale and all signs of amusement disappeared.

"What's wrong?" he asked with alarm.

"Nothing!" she responded a little too quickly. "It's just that I…I mean I don't…"

"You don't want to fly with Jack," he stated for her. "I get it. I usually don't either, but this time he has an honest-to-goodness air-worthy plane."

She remained silent, her gaze now riveted on the floor.

"Hey, talk to me," he gently urged as he placed his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes, glistening with tears, tore at his heart.

"It's silly, really," she said, jerking away from his touch. "It's just…I'm afraid of flying. Well, actually, I'm afraid of crashing." She wrapped her arms around her middle and headed for the couch.

Mac felt like a heel.

"Aw Baby, I had no idea," he crooned as he sat down next to her and pulled her close. "We can drive or just not go at all."

"No," she protested, turning to him. "That wouldn't be fair to you. Just go without me."

"Absolutely not!" He wiped away an errant tear with his thumb remembering the last time he had gone off without her.

Minutes ticked by while the couple sat in silence, apparently at an impasse.

"You've flown with Jack a lot, right?" Joanna suddenly asked.

"Yeah. More times than I care to remember," and he remembered all of them for less than stellar reasons, but it was best if Jo didn't know that at the moment.

"Well, you trust Jack, and I trust you so…I gotta face my fear sooner or later, right?"

"Jo, you don't have to…"

"I want to, Mac. I want to do it for you."

To Be Continued...

 **A/N: Yes, I really make a zucchini lasagna (it's one of my mom's favorite dinners!). PM me for the recipe!**


	11. Reunited: Part 2

**Reunited: Part Two**

"Welcome to magical, mystical, Mission City," Jack's voice boomed over the plane's intercom early Saturday afternoon. "The temperature is a balmy…well, not quite balmy…eh, never mind."

MacGyver looked at Joanna and they both chuckled. Even though it was supposedly spring, the temperatures in Northern Minnesota definitely did not reflect the season.

Mac was proud of Jo. If she had been nervous about the flight it certainly hadn't shown. She appeared duly impressed with the big leather captain's chairs and sofas in the customized cabin and even complimented Jack on his smooth take-off and landing. Something MacGyver was sure he would never hear the end of! They rented a car and drove into town.

Police sergeant and long-time friend, Neil Ryder, was the first to cross paths with the trio.

"Mac! If I'd known you were coming I'd have gotten Harry's cabin ready for you!"

"That's okay," Mac assured him. "We rented a couple of hotel rooms since we're only staying overnight. You coming to the reunion?"

Neil frowned. "Can't. Had too many officers call in sick so I'm pulling a double shift today."

"What about Chuck?"

"He's out of town at some outdoorsman convention," the officer informed Mac. That made sense given that Chuck owned a sporting goods store and his busy season was about to begin.

MacGyver, Joanna, and Jack soon arrived at one of the more upscale hotels in the city. The little town was growing daily, it seemed. They had secured connecting rooms. Joanna's boasted a king size bed while the other had two doubles. The guys would share that room. After taking time to freshen up and change into the clothes they had brought for the evening, Mac and Jo exited their rooms at the same time. Mac wore a casual suit with a collarless shirt and Joanna wore a black, knee-length sheath dress with a long-sleeved, emerald green jacket.

"Where's Jack?" Joanna asked, admiring Mac's outfit.

"When I left he was singing show tunes in the shower. I told him we'd meet him in the lobby," Mac replied as he appreciatively regarded Joanna from head to toe.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack sauntered into the gathering area wearing khaki pants, a brown bomber jacket and his well-worn flight cap.

"Does he always wear that?" Jo asked Mac between clenched teeth and a pasted on smile.

"No!" MacGyver quickly defended his friend. "Well, sometimes…usually…yeah, pretty much," he conceded.

XXXXX

Mission City High School was a sprawling, multi-story building which boasted recent additions to accommodate the growing population. The reunion was in full swing in the gymnasium when Joanna entered flanked on either side by Mac and Jack. They stopped at the welcome table. Due to the lack of an RSVP, there were no ready-made name tags for them. The volunteer in charge handed them blank badges and permanent markers for them to scrawl their names and then display on their clothing.

Moving further into the gym, Joanna scanned the large room. A DJ played songs from the late 1960's and early 1970's. A few couples danced, but most chatted in small groups, sipping beverages and nibbling hors de oeuvres. It didn't take long before her companions were recognized by fellow classmates and soon Joanna and Mac became separated from Jack who took advantage of the attention to spin yarns of his various adventures since graduation. Jo appreciated that MacGyver stuck close to her, holding her hand or placing a comforting arm around her waist. Her mind swam as she was bombarded with names and faces she would forget by the end of the night. However, she was pleased to see that Mac had been a popular, well-liked student.

As time passed, Jo became increasingly aware of the curious glances and whispered comments she and Mac garnered as they continued to mingle. 'Mrs. MacGyver', 'wife', and 'husband' could be heard as they walked past various groups. At one point, they were confronted by three giggling, forty-something, bleach blonde women.

"So you're the one who finally captured MacGyver's heart," the most boisterous lady said to Jo.

Shocked. Joanna took a moment to reply. "Oh, we're just—"

"She sure is!" Mac unceremoniously cut her off.

A brief, but polite conversation ensued, and as soon as the women directed their gossipy attention elsewhere Joanna rammed her elbow into Mac's gut.

"What?!" he exclaimed, rubbing the spot she had connected with.

"'She sure is'?!"

"I thought it would just be easier to go along with it," he innocently explained. "We're probably never going to see these people again, so what's the harm?"

Joanna had to admit he had a point as they headed to the buffet table. While Jo gathered finger sandwiches, MacGyver carefully began ladling punch into two plastic cups when someone bumped him from behind, causing the red liquid to slosh over onto his hands. He let out a disgusted groan.

"What happened?" Jo asked even as she observed the punch dripping off his fingers.

"Nothing," he grumbled. "I gotta go wash this off. Be right back."

XXXXX

Frustrated, MacGyver flicked his hands, spraying red droplets into the air as he strode down the long corridor to the men's room, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the shadowy figure lurking behind him. Not wanting to abandon Joanna to a room full of strangers for too long, he quickly washed his hands and checked his clothes for any damage. Luckily he found no stains. He was headed back to the gymnasium when an unbidden idea began to niggle at the back of his brain. He wondered if the science labs were still where he remembered them and, if so, had they been outfitted with up-to-date equipment. He knew Jo could hold her own socially, and he'd only be gone a few extra minutes.

Before he could change his mind, he proceeded down the hallway he knew so well. He discovered the old, wooden door of the chemistry lab had been replaced by a fireproof metal one with a small window that didn't offer much of a view. He tried the handle. Locked. Making sure he was alone, he pulled out his Swiss Army knife from his interior jacket pocket, quickly chose a tool, and carefully picked the shiny new lock. Once inside, he flicked on the lights as an air of familiarity wrapped around him like a favorite blanket. He had spent a lot of happy and exciting hours in this room and his work here had served him well over the years. Grinning, he allowed himself to walk up and down the rows of heavy lab tables sporting Bunsen burners. Curious, he opened a drawer to reveal the standard issue equipment needed for just about every experiment done. Along the back wall, he noted with satisfaction, was a large glass and metal cabinet that held all sorts of chemicals. Yeah, this had always been one of his favorite rooms.

He was about to turn around and leave when he heard the soft shuffle of rubber-soled shoes and the click of the heavy metal door closing. He looked to find a lanky, balding man about his age dressed in an ill-fitting, powder blue tuxedo with a matching ruffled shirt. It was all he could do to keep from rolling his eyes.

"Ahhh, the infamous MacGyver! At last I have your undivided attention," the unfamiliar man crowed. "So sorry for _bumping_ into you earlier."

"I'm sorry," Mac replied. "Do I know you?"

"You mean you don't remember me?" the man asked as he leveled a handgun at MacGyver's chest.

Mac sucked in a breath at the sight of the gun and automatically raise his hands in surrender. "Um, off course I remember you…Gordon," he said calmly, thankful for the name tag stuck to the man's lapel. "Gordon Grapple. We had a class together."

Gordon nodded eagerly. "Senior Chemistry. I sat three stations behind you."

"Right!" Mac quickly agreed, trying to keep ole Gordy talking and diffuse the situation.

"Do you remember my lab partner?" Gordon asked, his voice low and serious now. "She had quite a crush on you."

Doggone it! This guy was talking about a class they had almost thirty years ago! How was he supposed to remember Gordon's lab partner when he couldn't even remember his own?!

"She had long, blonde hair," MacGyver guessed, hoping his punishment for the wrong answer wouldn't be a bullet to his heart.

"Red," Gordon replied, now looking through MacGyver as if into the past. "Her name was Winnie. Well, Winnifred. But I always called her 'Winnie'. She was so jealous of your Ellen. That's why she dyed her hair. She was always trying to get you to notice her, but you never did!"

Mac thought this was a good thing, but apparently it wasn't as Gordy stepped closer, shoving the barrel of the gun into MacGyver's chest.

"You ignored my Winnie and she ignored _me!_ " he spat. "She was so caught up in you she didn't give me the time of day! I tried everything to get her to notice me. Now, I finally have the chance to get her attention once and for all!"

"Aw, c'mon Gordon, that was a long time ago! We were kids! I'm sure if you saw her again—"

"I _did_ see her. Tonight. And you know what?"

Mac shook his head.

"She was looking at you just like she did when we were in school. But that's all gonna change right here."

Gordon reached behind him with his free hand and pulled out two lengths of rope. He ordered MacGyver to sit on the floor where he bound his wrists behind his back and then fastened Mac's ankles together.

"That should hold you until I get back."

"Where are you going, Gordon?"

"I'm going for Winnie. I'm going to show her how helpless, how useless you are now. Then she'll want _me_ instead!"

XXXXX

Jack Dalton was at the portable bar waiting on his second…no, third…well, maybe fourth…beer when he saw Joanna heading directly toward him, a concerned look on her face.

"I'm worried about Mac," she stated without preamble. "He went to the bathroom to wash punch off his hands, but that was over twenty minutes ago!"

"Mac's a big boy. He probably just met up with some old pals and lost track of time," Jack shrugged.

"Something's wrong!" she protested. "I can feel it! Please go and make sure he's okay."

Jack considered himself a man of many talents, not the least of which was talking unwilling participants into participating in certain ventures, but he had nothing on Joanna's big brown eyes and worried countenance.

"Fine," he sighed, "I'll go check."

Jack made his rather unsteady way to the nearest men's room. He earned some odd looks as he bent down to peek under the stalls looking for Mac's shoes. Not finding his friend, he wandered back out into the corridor. He didn't want to return to Joanna unsuccessful. After all, she was Mac's girl and he really wanted her to think well of him. It didn't take a brain surgeon to determine that Mac probably wondered off to check out the science labs. Or maybe the Ancient History classroom. But that was on the other end of the school. It had to be the science lab. At least the wobbly Jack Dalton hoped so. On his way, he almost collided with a nerdy, nearly-middle-age man dressed in, of all things, a light blue tuxedo. With a grunt as an apology, he continued down the corridor.

The pilot soon found himself standing in front of the heavy metal door of the chem lab. Light was shining through a small window. He stood on tiptoe and peeked in, but the view was quite limited and the knob was locked. He was about to head back to the gym when the sound of breaking glass caught his attention and sobered him up a bit as well. He tried peering through the window again.

"Mac?! Mac, is that you?!"

XXXXX

MacGyver didn't know how long it would take Gordon to find Winnie and convince her to come to the lab, so he had to act fast. First, he had to get out of these ropes. Ole Gordy didn't appear particularly strong, but he sure knew how to tie a good knot. Unsure of where his Swiss Army knife had gotten to, Mac looked around the room, wishing he was in the biology lab instead. A scalpel was just what he needed. His gaze fell upon the locked cabinet that held the chemicals. It was too risky to try and use an acid to eat through the ties without taking his skin with them, but he could use the glass. He scooted over on his butt and used his foot to break the glass. Turning, he tucked his hand up into the arm of his jacket and gingerly reached for a piece of the jagged glass. He had just begun to saw through the ropes that bound his wrists when he thought he heard a muffled voice call his name. Abandoning his bindings for now, he slid across the room and banged on the door with the soles of his feet.

"Mac?!"

"Jack!" he called out thankfully.

"It's locked!" his friend called.

Now sitting, with his back against the door, Mac used it to lever himself into a standing position. He tried the knob from the inside. It was locked, too, which was very strange. Classroom doors always opened from the inside. It was a long-standing safety regulation. He glanced around the room again and was struck with an idea.

"Jack!" he yelled through the heavy door. "Fire extinguisher!"

He closed his eyes and sent up a quick but fervent prayer that Jack would understand and grab one of canisters placed at intervals along the corridor. Seconds ticked by interminably before he finally heard the steady bang of metal against metal. If Jack could just break the doorknob…"

A few more blows and he heard the knob clatter to the floor. A second later Jack tumbled into the room.

"What happened?!" he asked, his eyes wide as if now first shocked by the situation.

"I'll explain later," Mac replied hurriedly. "Get these ropes off me. We gotta get back to the gym."

XXXXX

Joanna sat on a barstool waiting for Jack. What could be taking so long? All he had to do was go to the men's room and get Mac. A ball of dread began to form in her stomach. Something was really wrong. She was sure of it. Too anxious to sit, she slid off the stool and began to pace when her path was blocked by a short, chubby woman with red hair and dark-rimmed glasses. She wore an overly bright flower print dress.

"Excuse me," the woman said shyly. "You're Mrs. MacGyver, aren't you?"

Joanna felt her shoulders droop. She didn't feel like explaining. "Yes, that's me," she replied.

The woman's face brightened. "Mac and I had Senior Chemistry together. I had such a crush on him," she giggled. "My name's Winnifred." She stuck out her hand for Joanna to shake.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Joanna."

"Have you spent much time in Mission City?"

Joanna was not in the mood for idle conversation, but at least it would pass the time until MacGyver and Jack returned.

"Actually, I've only been here a couple times."

"Oh, that's a shame," Winnifred frowned. "Why don't we go for a stroll and I can show you some of the popular hangouts?"

This woman was a little too friendly.

"I don't think—"

Suddenly Jo felt something sharp poke her in the side. She looked down to find a hunting knife in Winnifred's hand.

"But I insist!" the woman exclaimed, looping her free hand through Jo's arm and guiding her out the door and into the night.

XXXXX

MacGyver and Jack hurried back to the party. Mac frantically scanned the room for Joanna but couldn't find her.

"Where did you leave Jo?" Mac asked his friend.

"She was at the bar when I left."

The two men hurried over to the bar, but she was nowhere to be found. The bartender and fellow former classmate looked up from the glass he was wiping.

"Can I help you gentleman?"

"Yes," MacGyver replied. "Have you seen—"

"Your wife?" the bartender smiled. "Yeah, she left with that weirdo from Senior Chemistry."

"Gordon?!" Mac's heart beat in triple time.

"No. A woman."

"Winnifred," Mac said under his breath.

"Who?" Jack asked.

"Where did they go?" MacGyver asked the volunteer bartender while ignoring Jack's question.

"Got me. She said something about showing Joanna the local hangouts."

Mac sighed and sunk onto the nearest barstool, his mind racing. He couldn't think of any notable, and potentially dangerous, locations except…

"Gordon said he had a crush on Winnifred," he told Jack excitedly. "And Winnifred had a crush on me!"

"So?"

"So where did we all used to go to make-out?"

Jack shrugged. His face blank.

"The Ridge!" Mac exclaimed triumphantly.

"What's 'The Ridge'?" Jack asked, still befuddled.

For a moment MacGyver's curiosity overrode his urgency. "You never went to The Ridge?"

Another shrug from Jack.

"It's that clearing in the woods above Ridge Lake. That's where Winnifred must've taken Jo!"

MacGyver jogged to the exit, Jack lagging behind. Mac stopped short and quickly turned around.

"You stay here and call Neil. Tell him what's going on and tell him we also need to find Gordon," Mac directed before hurtling through doors and out of sight.

It only took a few minutes for MacGyver to drive to the clearing, but it seemed like hours. As the dense trees began to thin out, he doused his headlights and eased the car to a silent stop. He got out and headed for the tree line, ducking low to keep his presence hidden as he moved closer to the two women standing on the edge of the cliff overlooking the lake. Moonlight glinted off the silver blade Winnifred held against Joanna's side and fear gripped his heart. He could hear their soft voices but couldn't make out what they were saying. He had to find a way to get them away from the ridge, separate them, and disarm Winnifred. Based on Joanna's shaking head and the other woman's jerky movements he figured he didn't have much time. Perhaps he needed a ploy more than an attack strategy.

With quiet, efficient steps MacGyver made his way back to where he had left his car. He opened the door and then slammed it shut. Loudly. Sometimes the best plan was the most obvious.

"Winnifred?" he called. "Winnie, are you here?"

He noisily plodded up the hill until he once again had the two women in his sights.

"Winnifred! Thank God you're okay!" he exclaimed as he continued to slowly walk towards them. "I was worried sick when I couldn't find you in the gymnasium!"

Winnie started and turned abruptly, spinning Jo around with her, still holding the knife.

"MacGyver?" she answered hesitantly.

"Yeah, sweetheart. It's me," he assured her in a deep, sure voice. He was now only a couple feet away. He looked at Joanna for the first time since his approach.

"What's _she_ doing here?" he sneered.

"She's the only thing standing between us, and I was going to take care of that tonight." Winnie raised the knife like a newly-gained trophy.

"Don't bother," he ordered. "She's not worth it."

"But…she's your wife!"

"No she's not," Mac said harshly. "Look at her…she's not even my type! You know I've always had a thing for red-heads."

"Then who is she?" Winnie asked slowly.

"Just some chick from work. I paid her to come up here and pretend to be my wife. I didn't want everyone to know that smart, handsome, charming MacGyver was still single because he was still pining for you." He silently willed Joanna to understand what he was doing and get in the game.

"You…you want _me?"_ Winnifred's grip on the knife as well as Jo's arm seemed to slacken a bit.

"Hold it just a minute, mister!" Joanna scolded as she freed her arm from Winnie's loosened grasp. "I agreed to our deal because you said if I pretended to be your wife you'd show me a good time, if you catch my drift! Well, buster, that 'good time' did NOT included being abandon by my date and kidnapped by a nutcase. Come to think of it, I'm not sure who's the nutcase here. Her for wanting to kill me, you for being in love with _her_ , or me for going along with this! That's it! I'm outta here!"

Joanna ended her rant by stepping away too quickly for Winnifred to react, but Mac was ready and waiting. As soon as Jo was far enough away, he lunged for Winnie, grabbing the knife from her hand before wrapping his arms around her, pinning her own arms against her body, while walking them both carefully away from the cliff.

"Let me go!" she screeched as she struggled against him, kicking him in the shins for good measure.

"Want me to take her off your hands?" Neil smirked as he stepped out from behind a large oak tree.

"How long have you been here?" Mac asked as they transferred the prisoner between them.

Neil shrugged. "Long enough to see that you had everything under control."

"Gee, thanks for all your help, man," MacGyver replied sarcastically before growing serious. "What about Gordon?"

"We found him roaming the school corridors looking for Winnie," Neil informed him. "He's already in custody back at the station. I'm sorry I missed all the excitement. What was the reunion's theme anyway? 'Revenge of the Psycho Nerds'?"

"Something like that," Mac mumbled as Neil led Winnifred down the path to his patrol car.

"I'll need all three of you to come down to the station and give your statements before you leave," the officer called before he was out of earshot.

MacGyver turned to find Joanna with her back to him, staring out at the lake below. He cleared his throat as he approached so as not to startle her. As he got closer he could see she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"You okay?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah, I guess." She turned to face him, her eyes glistening.

Without another word, Mac pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laid her head on his chest and began to sob. When the tears had stopped, she pulled back and studied the wet stain on his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"You got nothin' to be sorry about," Mac assured her, his own heart crying out. "You did real good tonight. You know that, right?"

She nodded and turned back to look at the moonlight glistening on the water. MacGyver joined her, taking her hand in his.

"What did she say to you?" It was a question that sounded like a command.

"A lot of it didn't make sense. Apparently she had a huge crush on you in high school…and still does. She told me this place was called 'Lover's Leap' and that if I didn't jump off the cliff she'd stab me to death so she could have you all to herself."

MacGyver sucked in a breath upon hearing this. He was amazed at how composed Joanna was in spite of everything. He let go of her hand and instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders and nestled her against his side.

"She lied, you know," Mac informed softly. "The real name of this place is 'The Ridge'. All us kids used to come up here to make-out. Well, all of us except Jack."

He felt Jo's shoulders tremble, not with sobs, but with laughter.

"I'll bet you know this place quite well," she said, looking up at him with a playful grin.

He smiled back at her. "I never kiss and tell."

He was prepared for one of her snarky comebacks when the trees behind them began to rustle. All his sense went on alert until his mind registered a huffing, puffing Jack Dalton emerge from the woods.

"Whew! That's some hill!" he wheezed, looking around. "Did I miss anything?"

"You missed _everything_ , Jack," MacGyver informed his friend.

"You mean…it's over? Neil got Minnie?"

"Her name's 'Winnie', and yes, Neil got her."

Jack's face fell in disappointment before brightening up again.

"So this is The Ridge, huh?" he asked. "I don't see what the big deal is…there's nothing here!"

Mac and Joanna began to laugh.

"I'm serious!" Jack retorted. "You know, this would be the perfect place for a—"

"Forget it, Jack," Mac commanded.

"But I didn't even tell you my idea yet!"

"Exactly!"


	12. The Dance

_**Author's Note : This chapter is (hopefully) a warm, fuzzy, feel-good one. I thought Mac and Joanna deserved it after dealing with the psycho nerds! Hope you enjoy!**_

 **The Dance**

MacGyver stood in his office doorway and gazed out at his domain, otherwise known as the Challengers Club. For the first time since beginning this venture he finally felt in full control of the endeavor. Jack had left for L.A. and, at Mac's insistence, Cynthia had agreed to leave work early. It didn't take long before his eyes fell on the two youngest members of the club seated on either side of Joanna studiously completing their homework. Davey, the elder of the two, had inquisitive hazel eyes and dark blonde hair with an out-of-control cowlick that refused to be tamed. In his short time with Challengers, Mac had discovered the boy's love of science and desire to take apart anything that moves to find out how it works regardless of if he could put it back together or not. Davey's five-year-old sister, Suzy, had dark brown hair cut in a bob similar to Jo's. Quiet and non-assuming, the little girl had a way of wiggling into one's heart when they weren't paying attention. MacGyver felt his insides warm, realizing that these two children could easily be his and Joanna's. He began to wonder what a child of theirs would be like before the ringing telephone rudely interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm going to take off now, if that's okay," a female voice said from the doorway.

"Yeah, sure," Mac mumbled, not raising his head from the note he was jotting to himself.

"Davey and Suzy are helping the older kids clean up. I had them call their mom since they stayed later than usual."

"Okay," he mumbled again, his attention still focused on the note.

"Angus MacGyver! You haven't heard a word I've said!"

The harsh tone of voice, not to mention the use of his Christian name, caused Mac's head to snap up only to find Joanna standing in the doorway to his office, hands planted firmly on her hips, her brow furrowed.

Suddenly penitent, Mac quickly pushed back his chair and hurried around the old desk. He put his hands on Jo's stiffened shoulders and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry, babe. I got distracted and didn't even realize how late it was."

He felt her shoulders relax as her hands reached up to gently grasp his forearms. The look on her face quickly morphing from frustration to concern.

"Is everything all right? You haven't been out of your office since that phone call?"

"Everything's fine," he assured her. "How about we talk tomorrow and plan to spend some time together? Just the two of us."

"Sure," she replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before she turned and headed toward the exit.

"By the way," she called from across the room, "I told Davey and Suzy you'd drive them home since it's dark outside." This time her mischievous grin lit up the night.

The older teens made quick work of the end-of-day clean-up routine. Not only did it take a load off of MacGyver and Cynthia, but it gave the youth a sense of responsibility and ownership. Mac had just returned from dumping the garbage when he spotted Davey walking aimlessly around the rec room.

"Ready to go home, buddy?" he asked the boy.

"I can't find Frog," Davey replied, holding up the dog leash as if to make his point.

"He's around here somewhere. I'll round him up," Mac promised. "Now go tell Suzy it's time to leave."

"I can't find her, either," Davey said woefully.

Mac's senses went on alert. A habit from his days as a field operative. But he didn't want the boy to see his concern.

"Maybe Suzy and Frog are playing hide-and-seek," MacGyver suggested hopefully. "Let's see if we can find them together."

Hand in hand, Mac and Davey inspected the perimeter of the large room and any nooks or crannies that might serve as a good hiding place, but they found nothing.

"Maybe Frog needed to go outside," Mac said. "Let me grab my jacket and we'll take a look."

He hurried into his office and grabbed the familiar brown bomber from the back of his chair. He was closing the door behind him when a muffled sob and a snort stopped him in his tracks. He stood quietly and listened. A few seconds later the sounds came again.

"Suzy? Frog?" he called softly. The only reply was more sobs and a snuffle.

MacGyver followed the sounds and soon found its source under his desk. Suzy sat cross-legged, her arms wrapped tightly around the stocky bull dog sitting in her lap, her head buried in his back as she cried. Frog sat patiently, his lolling tongue and panting breath the only indication of his discomfort.

"Hey, guys, is everything okay?" Mac asked, crouching down so he could see them better. Neither girl nor beast replied.

"What do you say we go on home?"

Suzy raised her head, her face flushed and tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I don't wanna go home!" she exclaimed.

"Why not?" Mac asked. Was something going on at the house that caused the girl to not want to return? All sorts of unsettling scenarios crept into his head.

"I wanna go to the dance!"

Totally confused by this unexpected response, Mac repositioned himself on the floor so he now mirrored Suzy.

"What dance?" Mac's voice was soft and calm.

"The daddy/daughter dance at school," Suzy hiccupped. "I can't go 'cause I don't got a daddy."

"Aw, sweetie, I'm sure there will be other girls there who don't have a daddy," Mac tried to console her.

Suzy nodded. "My teacher said I could bring my mommy, but she's not a daddy," she offered, looking MacGyver straight in the eye. "Davey even said he'd go with me, but he's only nine and I don't wanna dance with my _brother_!"

"Is she still moaning about that stupid dance?" Davey groused from the doorway.

"It's not a stupid dance!" his sister yelled back.

MacGyver sighed. He was way out of his comfort zone. "Let's all go home and get a good night's sleep and maybe we can think of a solution tomorrow," he offered, trying to sound authoritative.

"But I _have_ a solution!" Suzy proclaimed. "Only Mommy made me promise not to say anything."

This piqued his curiosity.

"Well, ya know, I'm really good at keepin' secrets," Mac whispered conspiratorially. "Could you tell me what your solution is?"

Suzy shook her head vigorously.

"Why not?" MacGyver asked.

"Because _you're_ the solution! I want _you_ to be my daddy for the dance!"

Mac felt the air rush out of his lungs as if someone had punched him in the gut. Hard. He was flattered that Suzy wanted him to be her 'daddy', but if her mother insisted the girl keep it a secret she obviously did not approve. Getting out of this conversation was going to be harder than getting out of East Germany before the Iron Curtain fell.

"I'd be honored to be your 'daddy' for the dance," Mac managed to reply smoothly. "Why don't we talk about it tomorrow?" He quickly rose from his seat on the floor to avoid a rebuttal.

"Davey, come and get Frog, it's time to go home," he directed.

The Nomad had barely come to a complete stop in front of the Talbot house before Davey and Suzy barreled out of the car and up the front walkway. MacGyver followed more sedately, taking in the peeling paint and lopsided roof of the old structure. A lanky young woman with straggly blonde hair greeted the children at the door, hugging each of them tightly before they bolted off in opposite directions.

"Thank you so much for bringing them home, Mr. MacGyver," she said as he approached.

"No problem, Ms. Talbot. I'm happy to do it," he smiled.

"Please, call me Jill."

"Okay, Jill. Could we talk for a minute in private?"

The young woman's thin face paled, but she ushered MacGyver into the kitchen and started pouring two cups of coffee before he could object.

"I hope the children aren't being a burden," she said quietly, sitting on the edge of a wobbly wooden chair.

"The kids are great," Mac assured her. "We love having them around."

"Then what's the problem?" She couldn't hide the weariness from her voice. Working two jobs was definitely taking its toll.

"I wouldn't call it a problem," MacGyver began, "But Suzy was telling me about the daddy/daughter dance at her school. She's quite upset because she doesn't have a daddy to go with."

Jill sighed. "I know. We've been arguing about it for weeks."

"She told me about her solution."

"Oh, no," the tired woman moaned. "I specifically made her promise not to bother you with it."

"With all due respect, ma'am, it's not a bother. In fact, I'd like to be her 'daddy' for the dance if you'll allow it."

The look on Jill's face was a combination of surprise and relief. "Really, Mr. MacGyver, you don't have to do this."

"I _want_ to do it. And the name's Mac."

Jill's face fell again.

"There's one problem," she said quietly. "Suzy is going to want a new dress and we simply can't afford it."

MacGyver smiled. "I have a friend who might be able to help out with that if you'll agree to it."

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Saturday morning Joanna entered the Talbot home much to the delight of Suzy who bounced across the small living room to greet her.

"Thank you so much for taking Suzy shopping," Jill said as she offered Jo a cup of coffee which she refused.

"It's my pleasure. And don't worry, I know some really good thrift stores," Jo promised with a smile.

Two hours and three shops later, Suzy was still unable to find a dress that suited her. Her mother had warned her about not being too fussy and to be grateful that she was getting a new outfit at all. Nevertheless, the little girl apparently knew what she wanted and wasn't going to stop looking until she found it. But Joanna was running out of options. There was only one second-hand store they hadn't tried. Within minutes upon entering, Suzy perused the rack with dresses in her size before declaring them all unworthy. Joanna sighed and massaged her temple where a headache was beginning to blossom.

"Okay. Time for the mall," she declared.

"But Mommy said the mall's too 'spensive."

"Not if you look for sales," Joanna smiled and winked at her young charge as they headed to the car.

After a quick stop at the mall's food court to refuel with burgers and fries, Joanna led Suzy through the nearest department store. Soon they were standing in front of racks laden with party dresses. Little Suzy's jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide. She stood stock still as if paralyzed by the options that confronted her. She bit her lower lip and looked up at Jo.

"What's Mr. Mac's favorite color?"

Joanna opened her mouth to reply before realizing she didn't know the answer. What _was_ Mac's favorite color? She'd seen him wear everything from white tees to brightly colored print shirts and he always seemed to like what she wore, regardless of color. Not only didn't she know his favorite color, she also didn't know his favorite song, movie (though it was a Western for sure), season, or even pizza topping though she knew he _didn't_ like anchovies. How could they have known each other so long and she still not know the answers?

A tug on her handbag startled her out of her reverie. She looked down to find Suzy staring up at her, patiently waiting for an answer.

"Blue," Jo blurted out. "Mr. Mac's favorite color is blue." She'd inform him later so he could give Suzy the proper compliment.

With the choices now narrowed a bit, Suzy began to gingerly pick through the brand new outfits.

"Does he like sparkly or plain?" she asked.

Yet another question Jo didn't know the answer to, but this time she decided to take a different approach. She knelt down so she was at eye level with the girl.

"Sweetie, I know you want to wear a dress Mr. Mac will like, but it's more important to find a dress that _you_ like and feel comfortable in. Mr. Mac likes _you_ regardless of what color you're wearing or whether it's sparkly or not."

Suzy considered this information before plucking a powder blue ruffled dress from the rack.

"I like this one," she declared, but a frown marred her precious face when she looked at the price tag. "But it's too 'spensive," she sighed.

The girl's comment was like a knife to Jo's heart. No five-year-old should have to worry about money.

"Why don't you try it on anyway," she urged. "Maybe it's on sale even though it's not marked."

Ten minutes later, Joanna handed the credit card MacGyver had given her to the clerk. After signing her name on the receipt, she reached for the tag on the dress, scribbled out the original price, and wrote in one that Jill would find acceptable.

"Your daughter will look like a princess in this dress," the cashier commented as she completed the transaction.

Joanna opened her mouth to correct the assumption when she suddenly decided to go with the flow. "Thanks. I think so, too," she replied, grabbing her package and heading to where Suzy stood waiting for her. She stopped and regarded the child. She had long ago accepted the fact that having a child was not part of her future, but this little sprite couldn't help but make her wonder what a daughter of hers might be like. Hers and MacGyver's.

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Mac winced as Joanna readjusted his tie and tugged on his collar. Once satisfied, she brushed away some imaginary lint from his lapels and pronounced him fit for the daddy/daughter dance.

"Remember, your favorite color is light blue and you like ruffles, not sparkles," she instructed as she handed him the small clear plastic container that held a miniature wrist corsage.

"Yes, mother," he replied cheekily which only earned him a scowl and a playful swat on his shoulder.

"Seriously," he said, "I will treat her like a princess and make sure she has a wonderful time."

XXXXX

Suzy's small hand tightly grasped MacGyver's much larger one as she led him into the school cafeteria that had been transformed into a magical wonderland complete with twinkling fairy lights. Grown men talked and laughed as little girls whispered and giggled. It didn't take long before Suzy spotted her friends and picked up the pace, practically tugging MacGyver behind her.

"C'mon Daddy Mac, I want you to meet my friends!"

They approached a small group of girls similar in age who all turned and stopped talking when they got close.

"Hey everybody," Suzy announced, her head held high, "this is my daddy!"

The girls began to snicker and Suzy appeared confused as the tallest of the bunch…it always seemed to be the tallest who was the bully…stepped forward.

"He's not your daddy," the tall girl proclaimed. "You don't _have_ a daddy!"

MacGyver felt Suzy's hand tighten in his and caught the slightest quiver of her lower lip. He knew tears would soon follow.

"I usually don't argue with pretty young ladies," he said calmly, "But for tonight I am most certainly Miss Suzy's daddy." He then turned to Suzy. "C'mon honey, let's get some punch." And together they walked away.

Mac quickly lost track of time as he and Suzy drank punch, sampled the family-friendly finger-food, and danced to a variety of music. Suzy tried to teach him new dance steps which she insisted were the most popular among her generation while he tried desperately to follow her instructions and not look like a fool in front of the other dads who no doubt had been schooled in these moves by their daughters over the previous weeks. His efforts brought on more than one bout of the giggles from his 'date'. When the beat of the music became slow and rhythmic, MacGyver gently lifted Suzy into his arms and she snuggled against his chest as he swayed in time to the song.

"Are you having a good time?" he asked.

"This is the bestest night of my whole entire life!" she answered, looking up at him with a happy smile. "Will you be my daddy again next year?"

Mac chuckled. "You bet I will."

The song ended and the DJ announced the conclusion of the evening. MacGyver lowered Suzy to the floor and looked at his watch. He couldn't believe the dance was over. He looked around to find a group of weary kindergarteners who were probably already up past their bedtime. Even Suzy's usual energetic glow had faded.

A short while later he escorted a sleepy Suzy to her front door where her mother greeted her.

"How was the dance, sweetheart?" Jill asked.

"It was awesome," the girl mumbled around a yawn.

"Say 'thank you' to Mr. Mac," her mom instructed.

"Thank you, Daddy Mac," she said, rubbing her tired eyes before heading down the hall to her room.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Mr. MacGyver," Jill said once Suzy had disappeared. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"Hey, the pleasure was all mine. You owe me nothing," he smiled before heading back to the car.

Mac was already tugging off his tie as he entered his apartment. He shrugged out of his suit coat and deposited himself on the couch. He laid staring up at the ceiling, wondering if there were any more daddy/daughter dances in his future. If Miss Suzy had her way he was sure there would be. At least now he had time to practice his dance steps.


	13. Frog's Secret

**Frog's Secret**

MacGyver stooped to retrieve Frog's food bowl, noting that there was still a good deal of kibble left over for the second day in a row.

"What's the matter, boy? Decided to go on a diet?"

Frog looked at him mournfully before bringing his back leg around to furiously scratch his neck, something else he had been doing a lot more of recently. Come to think of it, the dog hadn't been as active as usual either, but Mac had chalked it up to age and busy days with the kids at Challengers.

"Is that collar bothering you again?" Mac asked, stooping once again to loosen it a notch before clipping on the leash and heading to the car.

Upon arriving at the Challengers Club, Frog headed straight for the corner where his plush dog bed awaited him. MacGyver readied a bowl of food and one of water, but by the time he put them on the floor next to the bed, Frog was already asleep, snoring softly…for him. Mac shook his head, but he couldn't shake the concern that had been growing in the back of his mind. He walked into his office to find Cynthia already working away on the computer.

"Hey, Cynthia. You know anything about dogs?"

Cynthia looked up. "I never had a dog," she shrugged. "I've always been more of a cat person. Why?"

"Frog's been acting weird lately and I thought you might have an idea why."

"Sorry," Cynthia apologized. "But I've noticed it too. He doesn't get as anxious for his walks as he used to. Maybe he's just getting old."

"Yeah, maybe," MacGyver mumbled.

XXXXX

The day passed quickly and soon the center was filling up with teenagers ready to either blow off some steam or get started on their homework. Mac hardly noticed when Joanna arrived for her daily tutoring sessions, but when he _did_ notice, he couldn't take his eyes off her. They really needed to make a point to spend some quality time together. He watched as she commandeered a table before going over to the corner to greet Frog. She crouched down, ruffling his ears. Then she started fiddling with his collar.

"We need to tighten this up before your head slips out and you decide to take off," she was telling the dog as MacGyver approached from behind.

"What are you doing?" he asked, more harshly than he had intended to given her startled reaction.

"I'm adjusting his collar," she said, craning her neck to look up at him. "Someone keeps loosening it and I think it's irritating his neck. See?"

MacGyver bent down to see the spot Jo was gently massaging with her fingertips. He reached out to feel for himself. Their fingers touched briefly, but long enough for a spark of electricity to arc between them.

"There's a lump there," Mac frowned.

Joanna nodded in agreement as she gently separated the short hair of the canine's coat. "The skin around the area looks red, too." Her eyes were full of concern as they met his.

MacGyver stood up and jammed his hand through his hair. Something was definitely wrong with his dog.

"I think you should probably take him to the vet just to be on the safe side," Joanna offered, rising to stand next to him.

Mac groaned. "He doesn't have a vet," he admitted. "He's never needed one before."

"Well, I think he needs one now," Jo observed, looking down at the listless animal. "There's an emergency clinic not far from here that should be able to see him right away."

"I'll let Cynthia know we're leaving," Mac said as Joanna went to get Frog's leash.

It didn't take long to drive to the clinic and soon they were seated on hard plastic chairs in an antiseptic waiting room, Frog sitting drowsily at their feet. MacGyver suddenly realized he had never even asked Jo if she wanted to come along. He simply assumed she'd come and she never objected. When the receptionist called Frog's name, they both rose and coaxed the canine into an even more antiseptic exam room. Thankfully it didn't take long for the doctor to see them.

"And what seems to be the problem today?" the vet asked in a kind voice. He was middle-aged with thin gray hair and wearing wire rimmed glasses.

"Frog hasn't been eating much the last few days and he doesn't have as much energy as normal," MacGyver replied. "This afternoon we noticed a red bump on his neck and thought we should have it checked out."

The doctor nodded and frowned as he reviewed the paperwork Mac had struggled to fill out when they first arrived.

"You don't seem to have much information about our little friend here," the vet observed. "How old is he?"

"I'm really not sure," Mac winced, feeling like a terribly inadequate parent. The doctor cocked a brow.

"Well how long have you had him?"

"He's been living with me for not quite a year, but I've known him for about nine," Mac replied.

"Where did he live before?"

"Out in Los Angeles with a friend."

"I see. And where did your friend get him?"

"From another friend," MacGyver muttered, knowing how odd this must sound.

The vet removed his glasses, his eyes boring into Mac's. "And where did _that_ friend get him?" His tone indicating his patience was wearing thin.

"I don't really know," Mac shrugged.

The doctor scrubbed his face with his hand before settling his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

"Well, then let me have a look and we'll go from there."

The vet performed a cursory exam before he removed Frog's collar and gingerly examined the area Mac and Joanna indicated.

"It could be a cyst or tumor, or something as simple as an infected insect bite. I'd need to run a scan to be sure. Do you have time to stick around?"

"Sure," MacGyver replied as Jo quickly nodded.

They waited in silence for the doctor to return with Frog and hopefully the results of the scan. The word 'tumor' echoed ominously through Mac's brain. Joanna must have sensed his concern as she gently put her hand on his knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. Perhaps she was having the same thoughts. When MacGyver thought he couldn't wait a second longer the door to the exam room opened and the vet walked in with Frog in his arms.

"What did you find?" Mac asked anxiously.

The man set Frog down on the table before pulling up a wheeled stool and sitting down himself.

"I don't know what to make of it," he replied baldly. "I started with a set of X-rays and there appears to be a small piece of metal imbedded right below the skin."

"Like shrapnel?"

"I couldn't tell. I'd have to remove it to find out for sure."

"Can that be done tonight?" Jo asked.

The doctor shrugged. "It's a simple procedure if you don't mind waiting."

"We're good," Mac assured him.

Relegated once again to the uncomfortable waiting room, Mac and Joanna sat silently next to each other, each lost in their own thoughts. After almost thirty minutes, the veterinarian beckoned them, not back to the exam room, but to the lab instead.

"Mr. MacGyver," he began sternly, "Are you sure you don't want to tell me where this animal came from?"

MacGyver's muscles tensed. "If I _knew_ of Frog's origins I would have put that on the paperwork. As I said earlier, I don't know where my friend got him."

"Is there a problem, sir?" Joanna asked before Mac could continue.

The doctor's shoulders slouched as if in defeat. "Look, I don't know who you are or where your dog came from, but the piece of metal we removed from his neck appears to be a microchip."

"What?" the couple gasped in unison.

"Take a look for yourselves," the vet directed them toward a microscope. "As you can see, it appears to be corroding which is causing Frog some discomfort. I doubt that anything harmful has entered his bloodstream, but to be on the safe side I'm prescribing a round of antibiotics."

"Is it one of those microchips their putting in dogs in case they get lost?" Joanna asked as Mac continued to examine the specimen.

"No," the vet answered confidently. "Those chips are quite small and implanted by injection. This chip is significantly larger and had to have been surgically implanted at some point."

MacGyver now looked up and turned to face the doctor, questions churning faster than he could find the words to ask them.

"Also," the man continued, "This chip is quite primitive. It looks to be at least ten years old."

"Any idea where it came from or what's on it?" Mac asked.

"Look, I'm just a retired vet working part-time to put the kids through college, not James Bond. I've never seen anything like this before. I should probably report it, but I don't even know _who_ to report it to!"

MacGyver shared the man's mounting frustration and felt sorry for him. Perhaps full disclosure was in order.

"Sir, I used to work for the Phoenix Foundation in Los Angeles. That's how I met Frog. A Bulgarian defector was living in L.A. under the Foundation's protection. Someone got her Frog for companionship. Unfortunately, she witnessed a serious crime and had to change identities which meant giving up Frog." Here he turned and looked at Joanna. "That's when Frank and the Colton's adopted Frog. He stayed with them until last July when Frank brought him to live with me."

"That's quite a story, son," the vet sighed.

"With your permission," Mac continued, "I'd like to take the chip and turn it over to Phoenix. Perhaps their labs can read it and figure out what's going on."

"Since the chip was found in your dog, it's technically your property. And since I have no precedence on how to proceed, I believe your suggestion sounds like the best course of action."

"Thank you, doctor."

"But be sure to give Frog his full round of antibiotics. You can pick them up at the front desk on the way out. And keep his collar off as much as possible until the skin irritation subsides." The two men shook hands and minutes later Frog was released into Mac's and Joanna's care.

XXXXX

"What is it now, MacGyver?!" Pete snarled into the phone.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Who else calls me in the middle of the night? I suppose you have a favor to ask."

Mac grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced at Joanna snuggled up with Frog on his couch, both sound asleep. It had taken the two of them, the better part of twenty minutes, and umpteen pieces of liverwurst to get Frog to swallow his medicine. One pill down, nine to go.

"You still got any strings you can pull at Phoenix?" MacGyver asked his friend.

"Maybe," Pete hesitated. "Exactly what kind of 'strings' are we talking about?"

"I'd rather not say anything over the phone. I'll come down to your place in the morning." Mac hung up the phone before Pete could respond…or object.

Early the next morning, MacGyver gently ran the back of his index finger down Joanna's sleep-flushed cheek. She awoke and looked up at him with a disoriented gaze.

"You fell asleep on my couch last night and I didn't have the heart to wake you," he explained before she could ask.

"My stiff neck and sore back thank you for that," she replied wryly as she pushed off the blanket he had covered her with. At some point during the night, Frog had removed himself to his favorite spot under the coffee table and continued to snore.

"Boy, you really aren't a morning person," Mac observed.

"It took you this long to figure that out?" came the snappy retort.

"How about I make us some breakfast and then take you home so you can get ready for work?"

"Breakfast sounds good," she answered sincerely. "But there's no need to take me home. I have a change of clothes upstairs if you don't mind me using your shower."

"No, go right ahead," Mac replied, perplexed. Since when did she keep clothes at his place? And why hadn't he noticed. He looked around warily, wondering what else he might have missed. So much for his keen powers of observation. He'd have to take inventory when he got back.

They discussed their plans for the day over MacGyver's self-proclaimed world famous pancakes. He told Joanna about his hope to have Phoenix check out the microchip and she told him that she planned to spend the day at Challengers.

"Isn't Hernandez gonna be upset with you taking off?"

"I told him it was a family emergency," she shrugged. "After all, you and Frog are like family to me anyway. Besides, we left my car there yesterday and now with you going to Chicago I can be there to help Cynthia and take care of Frog."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone," he warned her.

"Don't worry about it. Just try to get some answers, okay?"

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Once MacGyver was on his way to Chicago, Joanna told Cynthia what all they had discovered at the vet's office the previous evening before heading to the nearest pet supply store to buy a harness for Frog. Hopefully it would be less irritating than his collar and allow the small incision where the chip had been removed to heal faster.

Before Jo knew it, the afterschool crowd of boys and girls of all ages began to descend upon the club. Working in tandem with Cynthia, Jo made sure all the members were engaged in a positive activities and that they were all following the Challengers code of conduct. She was in the middle of a tutoring session when Frog ambled over to her with an expectant look.

"Raul!" she called and the young teen quickly appeared.

"I think Frog needs to go outside. Wanna take him?"

Raul's face brightened and she had her answer. Together they struggled to strap the pudgy bull dog into his harness and soon boy and beast were on their way.

Joanna was once again engrossed in a lesson when Raul bounded into the room, a huffing Frog trying to keep up.

"Ms. Jo! Ms. Jo! You'll never guess what happened!"

"Well, then you better just tell me," she replied good-naturedly.

"A man just tried to buy Frog from me! He said he'd give me a thousand dollars for him!"

"What?!" Joanna shot up so quickly that the chair she had been sitting on tumbled backwards. Realizing the attention they had garnered, she steered Raul and Frog toward Mac's office.

"Tell me exactly what happened," she instructed Raul once they were settled behind closed doors.

"I was walkin' Frog around the block like I do every day when this big car came up behind us and an old white guy got out and said he'd give me a thousand dollars if I gave him Frog."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him he ain't my dog so I couldn't sell him."

"And the old guy was okay with that?" Jo asked skeptically.

"I guess," the boy shrugged. "His face started to turn red but then he mumbled something about different ways to kill cats and got in the car and left. I ran straight back here in case he tried to follow us."

"More than one way to skin a cat," Joanna absently corrected the idiom before giving the teen her full attention.

"You did good, Raul," she assured him. "Can you tell me what the car looked like?"

"It was big and black," he shrugged.

"What about the man? You said he was old?"

"Yeah. Older than MacGyver but not as old as my grandpa."

"Can you remember anything else?" Jo prodded.

Raul shook his head. "I was kinda scared, ya know?"

Jo smiled softly. "I know. Now I think I hear some homework calling your name."

When Raul had left the office, Joanna sat back in the big desk chair and tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. She didn't think that finding the microchip and having someone try to take Frog was a coincidence. And she knew Mac didn't believe in coincidences, either. She thought about calling him, but he couldn't do anything but worry while he was still in Chicago. Yet her gut was telling her she had to get Frog away from Challengers. Things could have gone very differently for Raul with the man in the big black car. So as not to worry Cynthia, she claimed she had a headache and quickly took Frog back to Mac's place.

"Okay, buddy, time for your pill," she announced after divesting the dog of his leash and harness.

She opened the refrigerator in search of the liverwurst when her gaze landed on a clear plastic container of raw chicken livers.

"Really, dude?!" she looked down at Frog, her eyebrows raised. "Mac must really be worried about your appetite if he's making your favorite treat." The canine met her gaze, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth while his face was a mask of doggy innocence.

Not finding any liverwurst, she reached for a brick of tofu.

"Sorry, but this is gonna have to do for tonight."

After fifteen minutes of wrestling with the stout little dog, Joanna finally got him to swallow the piece of tofu in which she had concealed his antibiotic. To her dismay, the ordeal left her light pink blouse disheveled and wet with slobber. She sighed and climbed the winding staircase hoping Mac had a clean hockey jersey. Doing laundry was not one of his strong suits, she had discovered. She was washing out her blouse in the bathroom sink when she heard glass smash and Frog begin to bark frantically.

"That better have not been anything important," she scolded as she hurried to dry her hands. But by the time she made it down the staircase, all was quiet and the window that made up Mac's front door lay in shards at her feet with no dog in sight.

Her heartbeat quickened and she let out an involuntary scream as the ringing phone startled her.

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MacGyver arrived at the Thornton's suburban Chicago home by late morning. He stopped just long enough to collect Pete and head into the city where a scientist was waiting for them at the Phoenix Foundation.

"So when are you going to tell me what this is all about?" Pete huffed as they sat in the ever-present downtown traffic jam.

"Just hold your horses, Pete," Mac soothed. "I want to know what we're dealing with first."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?!" his friend shot back.

MacGyver grinned.

Having arrived at their destination, Mac offered Pete his elbow as the two men navigated the maze of corridors that led to the electronics and computer lab. They were met by a nervous, wiry man with thinning hair who introduced himself as Doctor Downer. After settling a harrumphing Pete on a stool in a nearby corner, MacGyver handed over the small container holding the microchip.

As the good doctor prepared the chip for microscopic examination, Mac wandered around the lab which was much more advanced than anything he had encountered during his time with the Foundation. Curious, he picked up and examined various computer components and electronic gizmos. This could easily be his favorite place second only to the chemistry lab.

"Mr. MacGyver, may I please ask that you keep your hands to yourself?" Dr. Downer censured. "Perhaps you would like to wait over by Mr. Thornton?"

Mac held up his hands in a show of surrender, eventually approaching the corner where Pete not-so-patiently waited.

"Where did you get this?" Dr. Downer demanded after several long minutes of intense scrutiny.

"Why? What is it?" Mac asked as he quickly came to stand beside the scientist.

"First I must know how you came to be in possession of it," the doctor demanded.

Mac jammed his fingers through his hair and sighed. "A veterinarian removed it from Frog's neck yesterday."

"What?!" Pete exclaimed.

"It was in a frog?" the doctor asked.

"Frog is the name of my dog," MacGyver explained.

"Why would you name your dog 'Frog'?" Dr. Downer asked distastefully.

Mac struggled for patience. "He was already named that when I got him. Now could you _please_ tell us about the chip?"

Downer looked furtively around the lab. "I think it best if we discuss this in my office. Come."

Leaning back in his plush leather desk chair, Downer removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Back in the early eighties, a soviet defector by the name of Pleshenkov, came to work for Phoenix. He was a brilliant, cutting edge computer scientist. Unfortunately, he used the Foundation's funding and resources to further his own personal agenda. This was discovered in 1985 and he was let go."

"Now that you mention it, I seem to recall hearing something to that effect over at the DXS," Pete offered.

"Yes, well, by that time, Pleshenkov had secured his own funding sources and continued his work elsewhere until his lab was shut down due to unethical practices."

"That's all very interesting," MacGyver replied. "But what does that have to do with the chip we found in Frog."

"Doctor Pleshenkov's work consisted of encrypting microchips with government information and implanting them in domestic animals as a means of getting them out of the country. The chip you gave me definitely appears to be his handiwork which would make your dog one of his test subjects that was still in Pleshenkov's laboratory at the time it closed.

Mac's heart sank at the thought of Frog being caged up and experimented on.

"So what does all that mean?" he asked.

"Up until a few weeks ago, nothing," Downer replied. "Lately there have been murmurings in the scientific underground that Pleshenkov is looking to fund a new project and there are still some former Soviet entities that will pay good money to obtain these microchips."

"But how can he possibly expect to find them?" Pete blustered. "The animals he used could be anywhere in the country by now!"

"Indeed," the scientist concurred. "However, Pleshenkov had the foresight to outfit the chips with a tracking device."

"But tracking systems back then had a very limited range," MacGyver pointed out. "And the chip is already corroding."

Dr. Downer shook his head slowly. "The chip is not severely damaged and the tracking technique Pleshenkov used was a very sophisticated global positioning unit."

"What does _that_ mean?" Pete asked impatiently.

The pieces were starting to fall into place for MacGyver. "It's a system that uses existing satellites to transmit information. Given the proper equipment, Pleshenkov could theoretically track down the chips anywhere in the world," he explained to Pete before turning his attention back to Downer.

"Is it safe to assume that Pleshenkov may be coming after Frog?" Mac asked Downer.

"If he found the signal before the chip was removed, I'm afraid your little friend may be in a great deal of danger," the scientist nodded sadly.

"May I use your phone?" MacGyver asked as he reached across the desk for the receiver.

"Be my guest," Downer muttered, clearly annoyed by this invasion of his personal space.

Mac quickly dialed the number for Challengers and asked to speak with Joanna as soon as Cynthia answered the phone.

"I'm afraid she's not here, MacGyver. She said she had a headache and was going back to your place with Frog."

Mac immediately disconnected the call and dialed his own number. The phone rang several times, each ring causing his concern to ratchet up a notch. Finally Joanna answered.

"Hey, it's me. I have some important news about the—"

But Jo cut him off. "Frog's been kidnapped!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

Mac felt as if he had just been punched in the gut.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, but Frog—"

"Go over to Charlie's and call the police. Stay with him until they arrive. I'm on my way."

XXXXX

Darkness had fallen by the time MacGyver pulled into his driveway to find Charlie and Joanna sitting silently on his stoop, his front door already boarded up. They stood up as he approached, Jo finding her way into his open arms.

"The cops aren't taking this seriously," she told him, her words muffled as her head lay against his chest. "They're calling it an attempted break-in and since I didn't actually see anyone take Frog, they think he may have just run off on his own, but he didn't. Mac, someone took him!"

"I know," MacGyver soothed, rubbing gentle circles on her back to comfort her.

"Let's go inside and figure this out, okay?" he urged. He tucked Joanna against his side as they headed indoors. Charlie offered the couple a sad smile as he ambled back to his side of the duplex.

"Now tell me what happened," Mac prompted as soon as he and Jo were settled next to each other on his couch.

"Shouldn't we be looking for Frog?" she protested.

"We will," he assured her, "But he could be anywhere. I need to know what you know to help us come up with a plan."

Joanna told him about Raul being offered money for Frog and how she heard the glass break before discovering the dog was missing.

MacGyver regarded her thoughtfully. "It doesn't seem like they want to hurt anyone since both you and Raul are safe."

"But what about Frog? Will they hurt him?" she questioned.

Mac shook his head and told her what he had learned about the microchip. "I'm assuming it was Pleshenkov who took him, and as soon as he discovers the chip is missing, he'll need to keep Frog for leverage."

"You mean ransom," Jo replied dully.

"Yeah. But first things first," Mac said as he went to his desk and fired up his computer. "You call Pete and tell him everything. With what we know about Pleshenkov and the chip, it shouldn't be too hard to get the government involved. In the meantime, I'm gonna see if we can track down our little buddy."

"How?"

"When Frog started bounty hunting with the Colton's, I rigged up a homing device and hid it in his collar in case…well, just in case. It isn't nearly as sophisticated as the chip, but if he's within range the computer program I used should still be able to locate him."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Joanna lower her head and wrap her arms around her waist.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," he tried to convince her.

"You won't be able to find Frog," she said, her voice quavering with unshed tears. "I took his collar off so it wouldn't irritate his neck. He's not wearing your homing device."

MacGyver sighed silently and swallowed his disappointment. He couldn't say or do anything to make Joanna feel worse than she already did. He rose from his chair and took her in his arms again.

"It's no big deal," he responded, trying to sound confident. "We'll find a way to get him back," he promised, hoping it was true.

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Frog sniffed the threadbare carpet. Cats. Not only had he been dognapped, but now he was being held hostage in an abandoned house that had been formerly occupied by cats. After being unceremoniously tossed in the back seat of the big black sedan, the speed and bumpiness of the ride caused him to be thrown to the floor boards numerous times so he had been unable to look out the window and determine the route or destination. The ride, thankfully, had not been long, so he knew he was still relatively close to his master. Thoughts of MacGyver automatically made him think of Joanna. He was glad she had been upstairs when his abductor broke in, and he hoped she wasn't too worried about him. He liked Joanna very much. He especially enjoyed cuddling with her on the couch. But then again, so did his master. Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he was thankful, as well as more than a bit surprised, that he hadn't been chained up or, heaven forbid, locked in a cage. Instead, he had been left free to roam the dilapidated building, but he had stayed close to the man who took him, hoping to get some information he could use to escape.

Upon arriving at the old house, another man had been waiting for them. The man was tall, and broad, and didn't seem too intelligent. He was obviously the muscle of the operation. Frog was quite familiar with his kind given the number of assignments he had accompanied Frank and Jesse on back in L.A. during his bounty hunting days. It was the older man that really got under his fur. The man's scent was vaguely familiar. Frog _never_ forgot a scent. And his accent had an odd way of grating on Frog's sensitive ear drums. This man seemed to be the key to his predicament. He slowly wandered to the far corner of the room and sat down, careful to keep his eyes blank and his mouth drooling. Working with the Coltons had also taught him that the dumber you looked, the less attention people paid to you. Frog desperately hoped that would be the case tonight.

The two men continued to speak in soft tones across the room for a long time. Oh, how he wished MacGyver were here! His master had a knack for formulating plans and getting himself out of tight spaces. Frog had even helped him a few times. All he had to do was follow Mac's directions. Push a lever, bring him a bottle. Granted, he may not have accomplished those tasks as expediently as expected, but he always got the job done. Unfortunately, Mac wasn't here to tell him what to do. He'd have to figure that out all by himself. The men's voices became louder and Frog's ears perked up.

"He's worthless without the chip," Muscle said. "I say we shoot him and bury him in the backyard."

"No, no, no!" the man with the accent scolded. "Don't you see, he is much more important now. We must keep him alive and well in order to use him to bargain with!"

This time, Frog was able to pair the man's voice with his scent. The man who had taken him was none other than Dr. Pleshenkov, that crazy scientist who had put a microchip in his neck when he was barely out of puppyhood. He was supposed to be shipped out of the States the following week, but Pleshenkov's lab got shut down and Frog had been sent to the relatively friendly confines of an animal shelter before the Phoenix Foundation adopted him to be a companion for a pretty Bulgarian defector.

"Aw, c'mon doc!" Muscle protested. "You really think that MacGyver dude is gonna trade us that chip for a fat, wrinkly, bow-legged bull dog?"

Ouch! Must the dimwit be so demeaning?!

"Oh, he'll give us the chip all right," Pleshenkov said as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. "Then, with the chip back in my possession, both man and beast will be expendable."

"What about the woman and the boy?" Muscle asked.

"The woman didn't see anything, and no one will believe the boy. They are to be left alone. Unless, of course, they become a problem."

Oh, no! Frog's mind began to spin. He had to escape and warn MacGyver, but how?! Suddenly, his big brown eyes focused on the finely tailored trousers and Italian leather shoes Muscle was wearing. It was payback time for the ugly words he had said earlier. Frog got up from the corner and went to sit in front of the man. He barked once.

"Shut up!" the man snarled.

He barked again, more urgently, before standing up, raising his left hind leg, and relieving himself on the man's leg and foot.

"Why you little-!" Muscle growled as he booted Frog away from him with his now not-so-fine leather shoe.

"Don't hurt him!" Pleshenkov commanded. "Go put him in the backyard."

"But boss…"

"Go!"

Soon Frog was following Muscle through the house and out the rickety door to the yard.

"And stay out!" the large man yelled, as if Frog really wanted to return to the house anyway.

Alone in the grassy space, Frog surveyed his options for escape which turned out to be few to none. The entire yard was enclosed by a tall, solid wood privacy fence. The gate was no help, as the latch was placed almost too high for most humans to reach. Frog dropped to his haunches, thoroughly discouraged. He was sure MacGyver could have found a way out. He needed to think like his master. Perhaps there was more here than met the eye. Frog got up and methodically began to inspect the edge of the fence. He was about half way around when his paw landed on a section of depressed ground. He stopped and quickly began to sniff the dead grass. He smelled rabbit and soon saw a piece of sunken ground under the fence board. He would need a much bigger whole if he was to crawl under the fence, but this appeared to be his only option. He promised himself he would go on a diet if he managed to get himself out of this horrid situation. With his front paws, he began scratching away at the dirt, the hole getting slightly bigger with each effort. It seemed as though he had been digging for hours before the opening was large enough for him to wriggle his pudgy body through. The roughhewn edges of the wooden boards scraped his back, but he didn't care. His hind legs had just cleared the fence line when he heard the door open and Muscle swearing at the top of his lungs when he realized Frog had escaped.

Run! He had to get away from Muscle and Pleshenkov before worrying about finding his way home. After scampering through several yards and alleyways, he allowed himself to rest. Panting heavily, he took stock of his surroundings. Even in the dark, the houses appeared familiar, and down the road a ways was a building he definitely recognized. Challengers! Thankfully, he often hung his head out the passenger window as Mac drove them to work every day. As soon as he got to Challengers, he could easily find his way home!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It seemed as though MacGyver had barely disconnected from his call to Pete when a number of various government agents descended upon his apartment like a swarm of angry bees. Before he knew it, his phone was wired for a trace and he was being briefed on how to handle the ransom call, never mind that _he_ used to be the one doing the briefing, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now. Joanna stood in a quiet corner chewing on her lip. He longed to comfort her, but he had a mission to complete.

"May I have the chip, Mr. MacGyver?" a man in a dark suit asked.

"That might be a problem," Mac replied.

"Why is that, sir?"

"Well, ya see, I don't have it."

"We were led to believe you were in possession of the microchip to use in a ransom exchange. Where is it?"

"With Pete and Dr. Downer at the Phoenix lab in Chicago," Mac told him evenly. "But I find it hard to believe you'd risk Pleshenkov getting his hands on the actual chip."

The agent ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair in an uncharacteristic sign of frustration before quickly huddling with his fellow investigators. Knowing he could resolve at least one problem, MacGyver went to his computer and unscrewed the top of the processing unit. Choosing a tool from his Swiss Army knife, he carefully disconnected a microchip of about the same size and appearance as the one found in Frog. He then approached the huddle of secret agents.

"Maybe you guys could use this instead?" he offered.

They all looked at him in disbelief before one agent silently reached out, took the chip, and slipped it into a small glass container before turning back to his comrades.

"You're welcome," Mac said wryly before leaving them to their whispered conversation.

Once the agents had a plan firmly solidified, the only thing to do was wait for the ransom call. MacGyver's telephone had been set up on the coffee table in front of the couch where he and Joanna now sat. She rubbed her temples, sighed, and looked at her watch for the fifth time in five minutes.

"Relax," Mac said softly, resting his hand on her thigh. "These things take time. Everything's gonna be okay."

"How can you possibly know that?" she glared, turning her head so her eyes bored into his.

"Well, I can't. Not really. But I've been through this before and things have a way of working out."

She turned her eyes back to the silent telephone and Mac wished he could have been more reassuring, but the simple truth was that while many hostage negotiations ended peacefully, others had a way of going south quickly. They could only hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. He was just about to go get a glass of milk when Jo reached out and grabbed his forearm.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hear what?" he asked, not quite sure why he was whispering as well.

"I thought I heard something on your patio?"

The couple looked toward the patio doors. The vertical blinds had been closed tight early on to avoid any prying eyes that may be hiding in the night.

"You're tired and upset. You probably just imagined it," he told her gently.

A scratching sound on the glass door caused the couple to start.

"Don't tell me I imagined _that_!" Jo challenged as her gaze swung to meet his.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing her hand and slowly getting up from the couch.

After telling an agent what they had heard, lights were dimmed and men with guns drawn took up strategic positions throughout the room as others prepared to open the glass doors. When the appropriate signal was given, one of the agents quickly slid open the door and aimed his gun at nothing but air. It was Mac who was the first one to look down and notice their guest.

"Frog! Buddy! Where've you been and how did you get here?" He moved toward the dog only to be scolded by a nearby agent.

"Stay back! It could be a trap!"

Frog trotted into the living room seemingly oblivious of the agents and plopped down at Mac's feet before giving a soft 'woof' and then shaking his head, sending slobber flying. Joanna immediately fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around the canine's neck before frowning in concern when she noticed the scratches on his back from the wooden fence he had slipped under. When the agents had finished scouring the area for any threats, they carefully examined Frog for any trace evidence that might reveal where he had been taken, but they found nothing. Suddenly, the phone blared to life garnering everyone's attention.

MacGyver stared at the phone in disbelief. "That can't possibly be Pleshenkov offering a trade. He has to know Frog has escaped by now."

"But he has no way of knowing the dog is here," an agent replied from behind. "Answer the call as we discussed earlier."

MacGyver picked up the phone. "Hello?" he said in a low, controlled voice.

"Ah, good evening, Mr. MacGyver. I'm assuming you know who this is."

"Dr. Pleshenkov."

"Indeed! I must presume this call is being traced, so I will say this only once. Meet me in Wilmot Park at midnight. Come to the southeast corner by the monument. Bring the chip and come alone."

Before Mac could respond, the call was disconnected. He looked at the technician sitting nearby. He shook his head. "The call wasn't long enough, we couldn't get a location."

"So we go through with the meeting as planned, right?" MacGyver asked, knowing his answer would be confirmed.

"But why?" Joanna broke in. "Frog is safe and we have the chip. Pleshenkov just told you where he's gonna be. Can't you just capture him without this ruse?"

Mac turned toward her and put his hands solidly on her shoulders, willing her to understand. "If Pleshenkov even _thinks_ he smells a set-up, he'll go back underground and we may lose him forever."

He could see Joanna's eye's soften slightly. "Think about what he's done to Frog. We need to get him into custody," he said gently.

Joanna had not yet responded when a Kevlar vest was shoved into MacGyver's hands.

"You need to wear this, sir," an agent told him.

Mac regarded the protective gear as if he was holding a snake. His brow furrowed and his lip curled slightly. He had been through and survived a whole lot more with a whole lot less.

As if reading his thoughts, Joanna whispered, "Please Mac, wear it for me?"

"All right," he replied, softly stroking her cheek with the back of his forefinger before strapping the vest around him and fervently hoping that Pleshenkov would aim for his chest and not his head.

In the midst of the controlled chaos as the plan was set in motion, no one saw Frog nose open the sliding glass patio door and scurry out into the night.

XXXXX

MacGyver sat in the back of a dark, nondescript van as government agents wired him with a microphone connected to a tape recorded. This needed to be a solid bust. Several government agents and law officers had been dispatched throughout the park, hiding behind trees or crouching amongst bushes.

Thankfully, two officers had remained at his apartment to watch over Jo and Frog until this ordeal was over leaving him to concentrate on what he had to do. At precisely two minutes to midnight Mac slid out the side door of the van and walked determinedly toward the monument Pleshenkov had indicated. As the clock struck twelve, the scientist emerged from the shadows behind the cement statue, a taller, burlier man close behind.

"I thought the instructions were to come alone," Mac called across the space that separated them. He stood casually, his feet slightly apart and his hands jammed in the front pockets of his jeans.

"Those instructions only apply to you, Mr. MacGyver," the scientist replied coolly. "I trust you followed them?"

"Where's my dog?" Mac asked, evading the previous question.

"First things first, Mr. MacGyver. Hand over the microchip."

"Now, you don't really think I'd have it on me, do ya?"

Pleshenkov took a deep breath as his cheeks grew pink.

"I do not have the time nor the patience for games, Mr. MacGyver. Tell me where the chip is!"

"Be glad to. Just as soon as you give me my dog back." Mac knew he was pushing it, but he wanted to rattle the scheming scientist before the feds moved in.

"I'm afraid that is no longer an option, Mr. MacGyver." Pleshenkov moved his hand in a silent signal to the man behind him who now stepped forward, a revolver aimed at Mac's heart. "Tell me where the chip is!"

Mac regarded the men thoughtfully. "The way I see it, this is a no-win situation for one of us. If I keep silent, you don't get your chip. If I tell you where it is, you kill me. What do you say we all sit down and try to come up with a compromise?"

"A compromise?!" Pleshekov roared, his face redder than a tomato. "I found the chip once, I'll find it again!" He then turned to his accomplice. "Shoot him!" he ordered.

Out of the corner of his eye, MacGyver saw Frog running straight towards Pleshenkov as fast as his little bow legs could carry him, growling all the way before latching on to the man's pant leg with his teeth and tugging hard. At that same time the other man fired the gun and Mac felt as if he had been hit in the chest by a wrecking ball, the force causing him to fall backward to the ground knocking the air out of his lungs. He heard myriad voices demanding Pleshenkov and his man to 'freeze' and 'drop the gun' before his world went black.

When MacGyver awoke, he was still lying on the ground. He tilted his head up just enough to make out the black forms of concerned government agents standing around him, Frog slobbering his cheek with happy doggy kisses, and Joanna kneeling next to him, her deep liquid brown eyes full of fear as she stroked his hair and pleaded with him to be okay. He tried to push himself up but was met with a resisting force on his shoulder which turned out to be Jo's hand.

"Stay down. The paramedics are on the way," she told him. Her voice thick with unshed tears.

"I'm fine. I just had the wind knocked out of me," he insisted, managing to force himself upright this time. He scowled when he looked down at his chest. "Aw, man! That goon ruined my favorite shirt," he groaned, fingering the fabric that had been frayed by the bullet.

No longer able to hide her emotions, Joanna let her tears fall as she flung her arms around Mac's neck.

"I was so scared when I saw you go down," she sobbed. "You know they make bullets that can penetrate those vests."

"Thanks for reminding me," Mac responded sourly even as he wrapped his strong arms around her as she cried. "What are you and Frog doing here anyway? You should have stayed where it was safe."

Joanna leaned back on her heels, wiping away her tears.

"After you left, I noticed Frog was gone. I figured he was following you."

"So you decided to follow _him_ ," Mac finished for her.

"Yeah," she replied sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, sir, we tried to stop her," one of the officers assigned to protect her apologized. "The best we could do was convince her to come with us instead of alone."

MacGyver smiled at the young man. "No apology necessary. Joanna can be quite, um, _persuasive_ when she wants to be."

XXXXX

The dawn of a new day saw MacGyver, Joanna, and Frog cuddled up on his couch recounting the events of the previous night. After the crime scene had been cleared, Mac had finally relented and went to the hospital to make sure the impact of the bullet had been harmless, which it was. They returned to his townhouse just in time to receive a phone call from Pete informing them that Dr. Downer had been able to decode some of the information on the microchip and it was now safely in the hands of the United States government, where it would remain. Mac relayed to his friend that Pleshenkov and his crony had been arrested and would be out of commission for a very long time. Joanna lay against his chest and he felt her sigh as the first rays of daylight pierced the window.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, absently fondling Frog's silky ear. "It's just hard to believe that Frog had that thing in his neck all these years."

"It's hard to believe what people will do to animals in the name of science," Mac grumbled.

"I know," Jo agreed sadly. "Do you think the other animals Pleshenkov used are okay?"

"I'd like to think so," he answered pensively.

"Well, I'm just glad Frog has you," she declared. "You're a really good dog dad."

MacGyver laughed. "Thanks…I think! And for the record, you make a pretty good dog mom yourself."

Her only response was to smile and nestle closer to his chest. He savored the intimacy of the moment as his odd little family continued to watch the sun crawl over the horizon.


	14. Dating: MacGyver Style

**Dating: MacGyver Style**

Joanna took one last, cleansing breath of the warm, sweet, spring air before pulling open the heavy plate glass door and stepping into the hermetically sealed, multi-storied building that housed the Hernandez Law Firm. Her high heels clicked on the ceramic tile as she headed to the bank of elevators that would take her to the floor she and several other research assistants and paralegals occupied. Upon arriving at the office's outer lobby, Jo breezily greeted one of the many receptionists.

"Morning, Geena! Happy Friday!"

"My, aren't we in a good mood today," Geena, the middle-aged, African-American woman observed.

Jo quickly picked up the slightly sarcastic note in the woman's voice.

"Why shouldn't I be? The weather is finally warming up and there are only eight more hours until the weekend!"

"Well, I hate to rain on your parade, but I have something for you."

Geena reached behind her and grabbed a single, long-stemmed red rose and held it out to Joanna.

"That man of yours left this for you. You two have a fight or something?"

Joanna took the flower, her stomach doing a little flip at Mac's surprisingly sweet gesture as she pressed her nose deep into the silky petals and inhaled the intoxicating scent before frowning at the woman's comment.

"Why would you say that?"

"Honey, there's only one reason a man sends flowers for no reason. Now what happened?"

"Nothing," Joanna smiled reassuringly. "And who says he's 'my man'?"

"Girl, since the first day y'all walked in here the entire office knew you two were an item!"

Joanna's smile slowly faded. She and MacGyver had tried to keep their personal relationship, well, personal. Apparently, they hadn't succeeded. A bit deflated, she turned to head to her office.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Geena called. "Don't you want the card he left?"

Joanna turned back, reaching out to grab the card. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Making sure her office door was closed, Joanna settled herself in the comfortable chair behind her desk before reading the little note. And little it was:

 _Meet me at the rink after work._

 _Wear jeans._

 _Mac_

Joanna's head dropped forward as she groaned. She had forgotten it was their first "date night". And apparently Mac's big plan was having her watch him practice his hockey skills. She leaned back in her chair with a sigh, absently tapping the corner of the notecard on the desktop as she recalled a conversation they had earlier in the week while cleaning up at Challengers for the night.

" _So, I was reading this article," Mac began as he gathered cue sticks that had been left lying on the pool table, "and it said that busy couples need to make an extra effort to spend quality time together."_

" _Yeah, I heard that somewhere, too," Joanna replied as she straightened the cushions on the various sofas and chairs while picking candy wrappers up off the floor. "You know, we need to crack down on getting the kids to clean up after themselves," she said wearily._

" _Then I took this quiz," MacGyver continued, oblivious to Jo's previous comment, "and the results said that we should make a point to go on a date once a week."_

 _Joanna snapped to attention. "Wait a minute. You took a quiz?"_

" _Yeah," he shrugged._

" _What kind of quiz?" her lips began to tug upward._

" _The kind you find in magazines," he replied sheepishly._

 _Joanna couldn't believe her ears! She began glancing around until her gaze fell upon an old issue of Cosmopolitan lying dog-eared on an end table, then it was all she could do not to laugh out loud._

" _You mean you took a relationship quiz in Cosmo," she clarified as she watched Mac's cheeks flush. She didn't think she'd ever seen him so uncomfortable before. This was kinda fun._

" _Maybe…" he hedged, his back to her as he carefully racked the pool cues. "What can I say?" he countered, turning around. "It was a boring day!"_

" _So what, exactly, did this quiz determine for us?" she smirked as she dumped the trash she had collected and sank down onto a well-worn couch._

" _Nothin'! Forget I said anything."_

" _Maybe I should take the quiz and see what results_ I _get," Jo pretended to threaten._

" _Oh all right! It said we should set aside one evening each week and go out and do something, just the two of us. And it has to be 'out', not in one of our homes or workplaces."_

" _So air hockey and pizza here at the club is out?"_

" _Yeah. Well, according to the quiz."_

 _Jo's smirk faded and her voice became suspicious. "So, are you saying you really think we should do this?"_

 _Mac tilted his head to the side before giving a definitive nod._

" _Yeah. I mean, it can't hurt, right?"_

" _I just don't see the point," Joanna protested. "We see each other all the time and practically share a dog! What is one date a week gonna do?"_

" _According to the magazine, It's gonna get us away from the distractions of everyday life and break up our routine allowing us to continue to learn about and appreciate each other more."_

" _That's what the article said?" Joanna asked, eyebrow cocked._

" _Um…more or less. So what do you say, should we give it a try?"_

 _Jo wasn't sure what MacGyver's exact motivation behind this 'dating' idea was. She never pegged him as the sort to put any stock in, much less even take, a relationship quiz, and then bring it up as a topic for idle conversation._

" _Fine. We'll give it a try," she capitulated. "Who's gonna plan the first date?"_

 _MacGyver smiled for the first time during the entire conversation. He shoved his hand into his hip pocket and pulled out a quarter. "We'll flip a coin!"_

XXXXX

After stopping home to change clothes and grab a bite to eat…she wasn't sure if food was in Mac's plan for tonight…she pulled her Cavalier into the ice rink's parking lot, alone except for an old pick-up and Mac's Nomad. This facility was on the edge of town and much smaller than the Pettit Center where the majority of skaters hung out. She walked into the lobby area, expecting MacGyver to be waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be found and she was greeted by silence instead, along with the scent of sweat and stale popcorn.

"You Ms. Fairfax?" a grizzled voice called from behind an opening set into the wall to her right.

"Yeah," Jo replied skeptically, cautiously approaching the elderly, gray-haired man.

"Mac said to give these to you."

The attendant hoisted a pair of white figure skates onto the narrow shelf between them along with another long-stemmed red rose with a white notecard. Joanna opened the card and read the brief statement:

 _Go to the home team's bench and put these on._

 _Mac_

Terrific! Mac apparently expected her to skate with him. How had she never gotten around to telling him she never learned? She didn't even roller skate!

"Something wrong, Miss?"

"Uh, no…everything's fine," Joanna replied politely. "Looks like a slow night," she commented, trying to borrow time and somehow get gracefully out of this 'date'.

"Fridays are usually pretty packed, but when someone rents the place for the night I'll happily close it down and take the profit."

Her brain needed a moment to process this. Mac had paid to make sure they'd have the place all to themselves? More befuddled than before, she bade farewell to the older man and headed toward the ice. She was sitting on the bench, trying to tie her skates when she heard the distinct sound of blades cutting across the smooth surface before her. She looked up to find MacGyver, in jeans and a pullover sweater, gracefully gliding in her direction from the far end of the rink. He skidded to a stop in front of her.

"Hey!" he greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, yourself," she muttered, pulling awkwardly on the shoelaces.

"Here, let me help you with those."

Before she could protest, MacGyver was seated on the bench next to her. She had turned, allowing him to place her foot in his lap as he re-tied the laces properly. He patted her boot, indicating he was done, then quickly stood up, apparently anxious to get back on the ice, but Joanna remained seated.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"No," she lied. "I just thought you brought me here to watch _you_ skate."

"That would make for a pretty dull date," Mac grimaced, unaware that he had voiced her own thoughts.

"Well…um…there's something you should know," she said quietly.

MacGyver sat back down, worry marring his finely chiseled features. "What is it?" he asked, his voice gruff with concern.

"I probably should have told you sooner…but…I can't skate." Joanna hung her head, not wanting to see the disappointment and possible frustration in Mac's eyes.

She heard him let out a pent up sigh and dared to sneak a peek at his face. He was smiling!

"Why do you think I brought you here?" he asked. "I know you can't skate, but I planned on starting to fix that tonight. Besides, with Pete down in Chicago, I have to break in a new goalie!"

"So you're idea of a good time is watching me fall and break my face?" Joanna shot back, her previous embarrassment replaced with the sass she reserved for those she loved most.

Mac laughed. "Trust me, breaking your face is _not_ in my plans. Besides, you're not gonna fall."

"Oh really?!"

"Of course not, I won't let you." He gave her a quick wink before reaching out to take her hand.

Even though she was still seated, Jo grabbed MacGyver's hand and hung on tight as if it were her lifeline. Skeptically, she looked down at her skate-clad feet.

"These blades are awful narrow. How am I supposed to balance on them?"

Keenly aware of her uncertainty, Mac moved to stand directly in front of her and took her other hand.

"Okay, now just stand up like normal," he instructed.

She swallowed hard as she levered herself off the bench, holding his hands tighter than necessary. Before she knew it, she was standing tall. Actually, very tall. About three inches taller than usual. It felt kinda funny, but at least she hadn't teetered over onto the floor as she had expected to.

"All right!" Mac exclaimed triumphantly. "Now let's get you on the ice!"

Joanna looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You are _so_ gonna pay for this, _Angus!_ " she promised as he helped her totter over to the opening where, heaven forbid, her feet would meet ice. Slippery ice. Hard ice. Oh yeah, payback was gonna be fun!

MacGyver stepped onto the ice first as easily as if he were stepping off a curb, letting go of her hands at the same time.

"Okay, your turn," he told her.

She felt her pulse ratchet up as her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. Flight. Yes, that sounded like a good idea. Just run away. But she probably wouldn't get very far with her feet still strapped into these deathtraps.

"Put your left hand on top of the barrier," MacGyver instructed, breaking into her thoughts, "and step sideways onto the ice with your right foot so your blade is parallel with the boards."

As Joanna attempted to do as he said, her right foot slipped and she quickly grabbed the barrier with both arms, unaware that with her sudden movement her left foot had also come onto the ice. Mac was immediately beside her with his arm firmly around her waist.

"It's okay," he crooned. "You're okay."

"Easy for you to say!" she complained breathlessly.

After a few moments, she began to take deep, calming breaths as Mac pried her right arm away from the top of the padded barrier.

"Hold onto me with your right hand, but keep your left hand on the rail and remember to keep your skates parallel to the boards," he directed.

Joanna held tightly to his hand and experienced a fraction of relief as she also felt his other hand on the small of her back for extra support.

"You got your balance?" he asked and she slowly nodded. "Good. Now we're gonna do what's called 'penguin steps'. Just lift up your right foot a little bit and put in down, then do the same with the left. Kinda like you're marching only with very small steps."

Jo had absolutely no confidence in this process, but she did trust Mac so she decided to make an honest effort. Squeezing his hand as well as the top of the barrier for all she was worth, she picked up her right foot ever so slightly and quickly put it back down. To her surprise, she remained upright and she felt a surge of confidence. She did the same thing with her left foot and when that step was also successful she was beginning to think she might be able to do this after all.

After penguin-stepping half-way around the rink, MacGyver made her stop. She looked at him with questioning eyes.

"It's time to get rid of one of your support systems," he declared with a slight grin. "You need to let go of either me or the rail."

Her traitorous body yearned to remain in Mac's arms, but her practical mind much preferred the solidness of the railing. As MacGyver eased away, she continued marching in her private little ice parade. Before she knew it, they were back where they began.

"Great job!" Mac exclaimed, spontaneously planting a kiss on her forehead. "Now for the next step!"

"Huh?" Jo paled. "I thought that was it!"

MacGyver shook his head. "Now that you've gained some confidence and experienced the feel of the ice, it's time to start letting those little steps turn into glides."

"Oh goody," came her sarcastic reply.

"And this time you hold onto me," he directed.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm the instructor," he grinned slyly before turning serious and gently reaching for her.

She had to admit that MacGyver was a whole lot better than the railing. He was soft and warm and smelled like- Suddenly her foot slid too far forward, causing her to lose her balance. She prepared herself to hit the ice, but instead felt two strong arms tighten around her and place her solidly back on her feet.

"I promised I wouldn't let you fall," Mac whispered in her ear, causing a warm tingle to snake down her spine.

After taking a moment to regain her composure, Joanna resumed her steps which were slowly turning into glides. With Mac by her side, she took one more turn around the rink. She was prepared to do another when MacGyver suggested they quit.

"You may feel okay now," he informed her, "But in the morning you'll feel muscles you didn't know you had. Besides, I'm starving! What do you say we go to the pizza place next door?"

"Sounds good to me," Jo agreed just as her stomach rumbled its assent.

Together they divested themselves of their skates and walked the short distance to the restaurant. The place was packed on a Friday evening, but after Mac whispered into the hostess's ear they were immediately led to a small table in a dimly lit corner. Joanna cocked an eyebrow in question.

"It _is_ a date, after all," MacGyver shrugged.

The next hour passed way too quickly as the couple talked and laughed and devoured the pizza that had been place between them. All too soon the dessert dishes were cleared away and it was time to go. Hand in hand, they slowly walked back to the ice rink's parking lot where they had left their cars. Joanna suddenly wished they had driven together so she could spend a few extra minutes in Mac's company, but instead, she dug out her key and unlocked the driver's side door of her coupe. With a wistful sigh she turned to MacGyver who still stood next to her.

"I wish this evening didn't have to end," she murmured.

"I take it you had a good time?"

"Anytime I'm with you it's good," she replied candidly.

"But you have to admit that tonight felt extra special, didn't it?" he asked softly, his head dipping closer to hers.

"Maybe there's something to this dating thing after all," she conceded, raising her face to his, their lips nearly touching.

The world became silent and time stood still as Mac captured her mouth with his. Jo felt his hands tighten on her hips and hold her closer as she reached up and clasped her arms around his neck, allowing her fingers to play with the hair at his nape which caused him to moan and gave her a surprising sense of satisfaction. The kiss was soft and tender at first, then slowly became passionate and probing, asking and reassuring, though never demanding. Eventually they broke the kiss, but they didn't step away from each other. MacGyver gazed into her eyes until she thought he could read her soul and then he smiled.

"What?" she asked, backing away slightly but not breaking contact.

"I have a confession to make," he stated, his voice low and husky.

Jo cocked her head but remained silent.

"I didn't take any stupid magazine quiz that told us to date. I just used that as a cover story in case things didn't work out," he informed her.

"Than what was tonight all about?"

"You. Me. Us. Ever since I came back from L.A. I feel like you back away from me at times. And I need you to know…I needed to show you…"

"I'm not backing away from you, Mac," she interrupted. "It's just that sometimes…the way you look at me…it scares me."

MacGyver shook his head. "I don't understand."

"No one's ever looked at me the way you do, and I'm afraid that eventually I'm going to end up disappointing you."

"Hey," he said firmly, cupping her face in his hands. "Don't ever say that. There is no way you could ever disappoint me. And for the record, I look at you the way I do because I've never felt this way about any other woman and you're right, it _is_ scary 'cause I don't wanna mess this up. Not with you."

Jo laughed at the same time her eyes welled with tears. "We make a fine pair, don't we?" she teased.

Mac rested his forehead against hers. "I think we make a _great_ pair, and I'd like to keep it that way if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," she replied, tears of myriad emotions now flowing freely down her cheeks.

"But I know," Mac continued, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears, "that it's gonna take some work. I see now that none of my other relationships worked out because it never occurred to me to work at them. To fight for them. So I'm warning you now. I'm gonna fight for this. For you. Are you willing to do the same?"

Joanna gave him a watery smile. "Even if it means putting on ice skates and breaking every bone in my body."

"Let's hope it never comes to that," MacGyver laughed, as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug that left no doubt he would never let her go.


	15. Bride 3

**A/N: First, thanks to my mom for proofreading and catching several typos! Second, all you Mac/RDA fans...keep your eyes out for Easter eggs:)**

 **Bride #3**

MacGyver reached under the passenger seat and pulled the lever, inching back a few notches so he could stretch out his khaki clad legs. Joanna's Cavalier was roomier than he expected. He glanced down at his maroon, banded-collar shirt before turning his attention to Jo's flowery sundress over which she wore a bright blue sweater. He recalled the way the light, gauzy fabric swathed her body and swirled around her legs, kissing her ankles as she walked. Never in his life had he thought he'd be jealous of a piece of material. But he was.

"You gonna tell me where we're going?" It had been Joanna's turn to plan their date night, and she had been frustratingly secretive about their destination. Based on her instructions to dress 'casual but nice', Mac figured she did not have a second ice skating lesson in mind.

"Just hold your horses," she smiled at him from the driver's seat. "You'll find out soon enough."

A few minutes later Jo guided the car into the parking lot of a large building with a neon sign declaring it to be the Glenfield Playhouse with the marquee below advertising the current performance of " _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers"._

Mac's jaw dropped. "Musical theater?!"

"A little culture won't hurt you," his date replied saucily. "Besides, it's a Western."

"It is _not_ a Western!"

"Well, it's almost a Western," she argued. "Besides," she added sheepishly, "The tickets were free. Lee Vang at the office won them in a raffle and didn't want them."

He quickly bit back the rebuttal that was on the tip of his tongue when he locked onto her uncertain gaze. The whole idea of date night was to get them out of their normal routine and spend quality time with each other. Joanna had gamely strapped on figure skates and conquered her fear of the ice for him. A couple hours of watching actors sing and dance wouldn't kill him. After all, it's not like he hated the theater or anything, he had just been caught off guard.

As they entered the venue, the couple was greeted by an usher in black pants and a crisp white shirt who handed Joanna a program as she handed over their tickets. Mac waved off the program the usher offered him as they were led a few feet to their seats.

"The back row?" MacGyver complained in a loud whisper.

"What do you expect for free!" Joanna shot back.

Gentleman that he was, Mac stepped aside to allow Jo to enter the row of seats ahead of him. Finding the correctly numbered chair, she sat down with a huff and a frown. MacGyver sighed as he eased down next to her. The evening was not off to a good start.

The pair sat in uncomfortable silence as patrons poured in, chattering excitedly about the night's entertainment. Soon the house lights dimmed signaling the start of the performance. MacGyver gently draped his arm around Joanna's shoulders. When she didn't pull away, he ever so slightly pressed her closer to him. Meeting no resistance, even though her eyes were set firmly on the stage, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I'm sorry for giving you a hard time," he apologized.

Finally she turned towards him. "It's my fault," she admitted. "I shouldn't have kept you in the dark. I know you don't care for surprises."

Before he could reply, a group of performers broke into song. Jo refocused her attention on the play while he continued to study her profile. By happy coincidence, she had seen fit to wear her hair clipped back, exposing her neck in the most enticing way. Ever so slowly he pressed his lips to the smooth, tender skin behind her ear. Feeling her flinch, he quickly broke contact. It was then that he noticed her head tip, giving him better access. His lips tugged into a smile and he suppressed a groan as he resumed his ministrations, blissfully trailing gentle kisses down her neck. He was just about to retrace his path when a slap on his shoulder roused him from his reverie.

"That's enough! People will see us!" Joanna hissed.

Mac raised his head just enough to survey the audience. "No they won't. It's too dark. Besides, isn't this what the back row is for anyway?" he assured her as he attempted to resume his previous activity.

"Maaac!" Jo was more insistent now, pulling her head back.

MacGyver sighed and slumped back in his seat. "In order for people to watch us they'd have to turn around. In that case, they deserve whatever they see. And don't tell me you weren't enjoying it." He sent a quirky grin her way.

"It was okay," she shrugged. "But I think you missed a spot." She grinned shyly as she tipped her head and pointed to spot beneath her jaw.

"Well, I can fix that in a jiffy, lil lady," Mac replied using his best cowboy imitation, causing Joanna to giggle softly.

MacGyver once again had his face buried in the curve of Joanna's neck when a voice from the stage sliced the air causing him to bolt upright. He squinted, but couldn't make out the face of the woman now singing.

"Cheap seats," he muttered.

"What's wrong?" Jo asked, clearly concerned at his sudden change in behavior.

"I know that voice," he whispered urgently as he reached across her lap for the program the usher had given her.

"Hey, you should've taken your own!" she rebuked, but he ignored her as he opened the folded piece of paper, took a pen light out of his shirt pocket, and scanned the names of the cast members.

"I don't believe it!" he exclaimed under his breath. There, in black and white, were the words 'Bride #3 – Penny Parker'.

"What is it?" Jo pressed, apparently having lost all interest in the play.

"Bride number three. She's an old friend of mine from Los Angeles."

"Old?" Joanna's lips formed a straight line as she regarded the actress now at center stage. She had to be at least ten years younger than him!

"You know what I mean."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about her?"

"Penny? Well, she can be kinda…complicated," Mac hedged. "It's hard to _tell_ anyone about her. You kinda have to experience her for yourself."

Any further explanation was drowned out by applause as the stage curtain closed and the house lights came on for the first intermission.

"C'mon!" Mac grabbed Jo's hand leading her down the main aisle before weaving their way to the backstage door where they were met by a hulk of a security guard.

"Sorry. Cast only," the hulk grunted.

"But I'm a friend of—"

"Sorry. Cast only."

Apparently the reading curriculum at security guard school was quite limited.

"MacGyver?" a female voice sounded above the din of the other actors. "Oh, MacGyver! It _is_ you!"

Penny skittered towards him and launched herself into his arms, throwing him slightly off balance, before planting a solid kiss on his lips. Mac's eyes widened as he looked helplessly at Jo whose glare had cooled the room considerably before extracting himself from Penny's embrace.

"How're you doin', Penny?" he grinned.

"I'm good, but what in the world are you doing here?! Well, obviously you're watching the play. But I mean what are you doing here in Milwaukee?"

"I live here now," Mac informed her. Beside him, Joanna cleared her throat. Loudly.

"Oh, uh, Penny, this is Joanna Fairfax."

"You're reason for moving to Milwaukee?" The actress smiled knowingly at him before turning to embrace Jo. "Oh, I just know we're gonna be great friends!" she gushed to a stunned Joanna.

The overhead lights flashed, a silent message that the next act would be starting soon.

"Oops! Gotta run!" Penny said lightly. "Hey, how about we meet at my hotel for lunch tomorrow? The cast is staying at the Glenfield Inn and they have this little café that's just so cute and we could—"

"Parker! Take your place!" a disembodied voice commanded.

Penny's smile faltered just a bit. "See you tomorrow?"

"We'll be there," Mac assured her before he and Jo turned to head back to their seats.

"So that's a Penny Parker," Joanna mused. "She certainly is friendly."

XXXXX

The following day MacGyver pulled the Nomad into the parking lot of a cheap motel on the edge of town. The cute café that Penny had mentioned appeared to be more of a dingy diner. Mac glanced over at Joanna who, even though it was a Saturday, had decided to dress up for the occasion and sported more make-up than he had ever seen on her. Did she actually feel threatened by Penny?

"Hey!" MacGyver reached over and grabbed Jo's arm before she could get out of the car. "You're not jealous of Penny or anything, are you?"

"Me? Jealous? Why would I be jealous just because your 'old friend' happens to be young, gorgeous, and successful?"

"Look," Mac said firmly, turning in his seat so he could face her better. "Penny's a good kid. She just needs some looking after sometimes. I think of her as the little sister I never had, nothing more." He made sure to clearly enunciate the final two words.

"Oh yeah?! How would you feel if a tall, handsome man from my past suddenly reentered my life?"

MacGyver stared out the windshield, "You mean someone like Mike?"

"Mike? Mike who?"

"Mike 'clean cut-always-wears-a-tie' Harlow!" Mac snapped.

"I can't believe you!" Joanna shot back. "You know he's just a work friend. I've never been interested in him!"

Mac pinned her with a glare.

"Oh," she said sheepishly. "Point taken."

"Good!" Mac blew out a breath. "Now let's go inside."

"Wait a minute," she put a detaining hand on his forearm before rummaging in her purse and pulling out a small mirror and a couple of tissues which she used to blot her lips and gently sweep at least one layer of make-up from her face. "Okay. I'm ready now.

Once inside the tiny restaurant the couple easily found Penny seated at a corner table. After greetings were exchanged and food orders given, Mac provided his friend with the abridged version of his experiences since they had last seen each other.

"Wow," Penny sighed when he was through. "I really missed a lot!"

"Well, what about you?" he asked. "What have you been up to?"

"After that whole fiasco with that evil Murdoc at the theater I went back to the house my Aunt Betty left me to, you know, get my head together. That's when I got this really neat idea. I decided to turn Parker House into a bed and breakfast! I call it 'Aunt Betty's B&B'. I like the sound of all the B's. Anyway, it's been open for about six years now. People really like it even if it _is_ haunted. You and Joanna should come and stay sometime!"

"Penny, we've been through this, that house is _not_ haunted! There is no such thing as ghosts!"

The actress leaned in towards Joanna and whispered loudly, "He always tells me that, but the house really _is_ haunted. But in a good way. It's just my Aunt Betty and she would never hurt anyone. Besides, I think he says that just to make himself believe it. Heaven forbid MacGyver not be able to explain something with science and logic." Penny proceeded to roll her eyes as Jo suppressed a giggle.

"All right, fine! The house is 'haunted'. But how are you running a B&B? I didn't even know you could cook!"

"I can't," Penny replied. "But with the rest of my inheritance from Aunt Betty I was able to hire people to do the cooking and cleaning and hostessing and all that sort of stuff. That way I can still pursue my singing and acting career!"

"And how's that been goin' for ya?" Mac asked.

Penny frowned and looked down at her plate. "Not so great. You know, L.A. is full of singers and actors. But," she raised her eyes which began to twinkle, "I have gotten some minor parts in movies and plays and I've even done a few television commercials!"

"That's great, Penny!" MacGyver smiled. "So how did you land this role?"

"It was the weirdest thing," she replied as her eyes widened. "I was walking out of a theater after an audition and almost got hit by this man in an electric wheelchair! I stumbled and ended up falling right in his lap! But you'll never believe what happened next!"

"Try me," Mac challenged.

Penny took a deep breath before continuing. Likely it would be her last for a while unless something managed to interrupt her.

"Well, after I got off his lap I figured it was only right that I should introduce myself. I mean, I _had_ fallen all over him! He asked if I was an actress and of course I told him I was. And then he told me he directed musical theater and asked if I'd be interested in auditioning for him. Mac, his name was Jacques La Rue!"

Listening to Penny was often like trying to follow a mouse in a maze and MacGyver generally found it entertaining, but this news had him shaking his head in disbelief.

"There's no way, Penny! You know Murdoc just made all that up to get to you…and me. And since he's dead—"

"Don't you get it, Mac?" Penny cried. "There really _is_ a crippled director named Jacques La Rue! Murdoc must have known that and impersonated him. But the real Jacques La Rue is much nicer! He's the one who hired me for this show!"

"I don't suppose I could meet him?"

Penny chewed on her lower lip before answering. "He really prefers to stay in the background. Behind the scenes, you know. I think it's because of his disability."

"I see," MacGyver replied cynically.

"But I'm sure if I told him a friend of mine wanted to meet him he would make an exception!" Penny brightened. "I'll ask him about it tonight!"

Back in the car, MacGyver found himself pinned by Joanna's gaze.

"What was all that about Murdoc and Jacques La Rue?" she asked.

"It's a long story. And not a very happy one." He didn't care to explain further. Not even to Jo. There were some things in his past that he wanted to keep there, and Murdoc was certainly one of them.

"Maybe Penny will tell me more about it tomorrow," Jo responded. "We decided to have a girl's day and get to know each other better."

"When did this happen?" Mac asked, more than a little shocked.

"Before dessert, when we went to the ladies room," she shrugged. "Do you have a problem with me spending time with your ex-girlfriend?"

"No! And she's _not_ my ex-girlfriend!"

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Late Sunday morning Joanna stood in the middle of Penny's motel room as the actress finished putting on her make-up in the small bathroom. The main room was sparsely furnished with everything one would expect and nothing more.

"So, I was thinking we should hit the mall for some retail therapy, grab some lunch and then treat ourselves to a manicure. How does that sound?" Penny called to Joanna.

"Sounds great, but I thought you'd have a Sunday matinee."

"No, Jacques doesn't believe in working on Sundays which is fine with the cast. We get a whole day to relax or spend traveling without having to worry about performing."

Joanna looked around the room once more before taking a seat in a straight backed wooden chair. "That makes sense," she replied. "But I would've thought that you'd be staying in a…different...motel."

"Yeah, me too," the younger woman sighed, now standing in the bathroom doorway. "Jacques promises it's only until the profits from the box office pick up. But until then, it was either fly to the cities we're performing in and stay in cheap motels, or stay in nice hotels and take the bus." At this, Penny pulled a face. Obviously, professional actors did _not_ endure long bus rides.

There was a sudden knock on the door and Penny hurried to answer it. She opened it to reveal a twenty-something, blonde-haired girl holding a plain white box.

"Oh, hey Jenny! C'mon in. This is my friend Joanna. Jo, this is my understudy, Jenny."

Jenny stepped into the room and smiled at Joanna. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I didn't know you had company, but I just ran into the motel manager and he said this had been left at the front desk for you so I offered to bring it over."

The girl handed Penny the box who eagerly opened it.

"Cherry cordials! My favorite!" she exclaimed. "Well, maybe not my _favorite_ but definitely a close second! Gee, I wonder who sent them? Maybe I have a secret admirer!" She started to reach for one of the treats before hesitating.

"Oh, gosh, where are my manners?! Jenny, Joanna, would you like one?"

When both women politely declined, Penny popped an entire piece of candy in her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in pure bliss.

"These are wonderful!" she mumbled around the chocolate concoction.

"Well, I better be going," Jenny announced. "Are we still on to run lines tonight?"

Penny nodded then swallowed before answering. "You bet. Come on over around six."

Jenny smiled and slipped out the door.

"Poor kid," Penny said sadly once the girl had left. "This is her first big break and she's so worried she's going to have to go on for me."

"Isn't it pretty rare for understudies to actually be needed to perform?" Jo asked.

"You'd think so, right? But brides number one and two are both currently being played by the understudies."

"Really?! How come?"

"When we were in Houston, bride number one kept getting these strange notes and was convinced a stalker was trying to kill her so she just up and quit one day and went back to Los Angeles. Then, in Omaha, a piece of rigging fell and almost hit bride number two. She stumbled getting out of the way and broke her ankle. You sure you don't want one?" Penny thrust the candy box under Joanna's nose.

"No. Thanks," she smiled.

"Suit yourself! I'll be back in a jiffy!" Penny promised as she headed back to the bathroom, popping another cherry into her mouth on the way.

Curious about the information Penny had just disclosed, Joanna called to her, "So what did the police in Houston and Omaha say about what happened to the actresses?"

"They said the falling rigging was an accident, and the notes were probably just a cruel prank. Jacques refused to let them investigate further because that would have put us behind, travel wise, and he didn't want to postpone any performances."

"Don't you think that's kinda odd?" Jo asked, but her question was met with prolonged silence.

"Penny?" she asked again. Still nothing but silence.

Suddenly, a loud clatter and muffled thud come from the other room. Joanna raced into the bathroom to find Penny's unconscious body crumpled on the floor. Not wanting to move her, but needing to know if she was alive, Jo gently shook the other woman's shoulder.

"Penny! Penny, can you hear me?!"

When she received no response she frantically searched for a pulse. She relaxed slightly when she found one, albeit slow and weak. She also noted that Penny's face was unusually flushed and there was the slightest scent of…something. Jo tried to place it and finally realized it reminded her of bitter almonds. She flew to the telephone on the nightstand and placed two calls, the first to 911, the second to MacGyver.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

MacGyver all but flew through the automatic doors of the emergency room. He still had on his worn jeans and stained t-shirt as he had received Joanna's call in the middle of painting a dorm room at Challengers. Groups of people huddled together in the waiting area. Penny's co-stars, he assumed, but no sign of the director. His eyes continued to search for the one person he needed to find most. After several moments, he found Joanna comforting a young, blonde girl who was clearly distraught. Their gazes met and Jo excused herself from the girl and joined Mac in the center of the room.

"Any news?" he asked anxiously.

"No. They're still working on her, I guess."

"What about you? Are you okay?" he asked, cupping her face with his hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Joanna sighed. "Maybe a little shook up, but I'll be okay."

"You always say that," he gently chided as he pressed his lips to her forehead in a tender, comforting kiss. "Tell me what happened."

Jo led him to a pair of chairs away from the others and told him everything that had happened from the time she arrived at the motel until now.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner," he apologized. "By the time I got cleaned up and drove over to the motel everyone was already gone."

"It's okay. There was nothing you could have done anyway."

"I could have been there for you," he declared huskily as he noticed she was holding his hand a bit tighter than usual.

Before Joanna could respond, a tall woman in a white lab coat stood in the doorway, scanning the large number of people that had gathered. She spoke quietly to the nearest nurse who nodded toward Joanna.

"Ms. Fairfax?" the doctor called.

Joanna jumped out of her seat, pulling MacGyver with her, their hands still intertwined. Together they anxiously approached the physician.

"How is she, doctor?" Mac asked immediately.

"And you are…?"

"MacGyver. I'm a good friend of Penny's."

"I'm sorry, Mr. MacGyver, but I'm not at liberty to discuss a patient's condition with anyone except immediate family. I came to speak to Ms. Fairfax since she was with Ms. Parker when she collapsed."

"I'm the closest thing to family she has," Mac insisted.

Just then a nurse quickly approached the doctor and whispered in her ear. The doctor's face softened and she turned to MacGyver once again.

"It seems one of the paramedics found an emergency contact card in Ms. Parker's purse with your name on it, although the contact information seems to be outdated."

MacGyver was surprised to learn that he was the person Penny wanted someone to call if anything happened to her, but in a way it did make sense.

"And since Ms. Parker is a travelling performer, her situation is a bit different," the doctor continued. "If you two will please follow me?"

Mac and Joanna followed the woman to the nearest empty emergency room bay for some privacy.

"My name is Doctor Reagan. I'm sorry if I was a bit brusque, but with all the new privacy laws these days…" she blew out a breath of what appeared to be frustration.

"We understand," MacGyver assured her. "We'd appreciate anything you could tell us, though."

"From the information the paramedics at the scene and Ms. Fairfax have provided, as well as my initial examination, I am all but certain Ms. Parker is suffering from cyanide poisoning."

Stunned, Mac and Joanna looked at each other before turning back to the doctor for more information.

"We've drawn blood and the lab is analyzing the cherry cordials found in the motel, but I've already started Ms. Parker on an antidote. I doubt there was a high level of the poison in her system, and thanks to Ms. Fairfax's timely actions Ms. Parker should recover quickly."

"When can we see her?" MacGyver asked.

"We sedated her when she began to gain consciousness in order to allow the medicine to work. She'll probably sleep into the evening. We can give you a call when she wakes up."

Mac jammed his fingers through his already messy hair and shook his head.

"No. I'll stay and wait," he declared. Then he turned to Joanna.

"I hate to ask this of you, but could you swing by Challengers and check to make sure everything is going okay? I left in kinda a hurry and I'm sure Cynthia's concerned."

"I'll do whatever you need me to do," Jo assured him. "But promise you'll call if there are any changes with Penny."

The doctor called out to Joanna as she prepared to leave. "Ms. Fairfax, since this appears to be an intentional poisoning, I've already called the authorities and I'm sure they'll want to speak with you."

"No problem," Jo replied. "Mac knows how to reach me." She gave MacGyver a quick hug which he wished could have lasted much longer before turning her back and heading to the parking lot.

XXXXX

A few hours later, Penny's condition had stabilized enough to allow her to be moved to a private room. However, it was early evening before she awoke to find MacGyver keeping vigil at her bedside.

"Hey you," she greeted him with a weary smile.

"Hey, how're you feelin'?"

"Not so great, but I guess I'll live," she replied, more subdued than Mac had ever seen her.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked.

Penny sighed. "I remember I was putting on make-up before going to the mall with Joanna and then everything went black. What happened to me, Mac?"

Her innocent, questioning gaze twisted MacGyver's heart. How could he tell her the truth without frightening her?

"Do you remember eating cherry cordials?" he asked

Penny began to smile. "Yeah, they were sooo good!"

"Penny, the lab here analyzed them. They were laced with cyanide. You were poisoned."

"Oh no!" Penny exclaimed, struggling to sit up in her bed. "Thank goodness Joanna and Jenny both refused when I offered them some!"

"Who's Jenny?" Mac asked, but he was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Mind if I join you?" Joanna asked from behind a large vase of yellow roses.

"Oh Joanna! You shouldn't have!" Penny gushed when she saw the flowers.

"Actually, I didn't," Jo replied with a grin, carefully setting the crystal vase on the table next to the hospital bed. "They were at the nurses' station so I offered to deliver them. Here's the card."

Penny plucked the small white envelope from Joanna's fingers.

"Oh! They're from Jacques! He's such a sweet, thoughtful man!" Penny clutched the note to her chest as if it was a valued prize.

"If he's such a great guy, why didn't he come with the others to make sure you were okay?" MacGyver asked with an edge to his voice.

"I already told you that he doesn't care to make public appearances," she replied with a slight pout.

He was gearing up to ask her more questions about the mysterious Jacques La Rue when Joanna cleared her throat, interrupting his thoughts.

"You look like you could use a break," she said. "Why don't we go to the cafeteria and let Penny rest for a while?"

MacGyver didn't want to leave, he wanted to learn more about this enigmatic director Penny was so enamored with, but the stern look in Joanna's eyes told him she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Joanna took a sip of her soft drink and peered over her plastic cup at MacGyver who was seated across from her nursing a glass of orange juice. An uneasy silence had settled between them since leaving Penny's room.

"Mind telling me why you dragged me down here?" Mac asked sternly.

"I'm worried," Jo answered softly.

"Penny's gonna be fine," Mac's voice softened. "You saw how much better she's doing already."

Joanna shook her head. "I know. That's not what I mean. She told me something at the motel I think you need to know about." She then proceeded to tell MacGyver about the previous incidences.

"You gotta admit it's pretty strange, Mac. I mean, one mishap can be an accident. A second can be a coincidence. But a third? I think there's a pattern here."

"Like someone trying to oust the main actresses," MacGyver replied, picking up her line of thought.

"Exactly! I tried to convince the police of that when Jenny and I gave our statements this afternoon, but they didn't seem to want to believe me. They're just focusing on Penny right now."

"I don't suppose they shared anything with you?"

"No."

"Figures," Mac replied, scrubbing his face with his hands. "By the way, who is this 'Jenny' person anyway?"

"She's Penny's understudy," Jo answered as if he should've known that.

"The girl you were with in the waiting room?"

"Yeah. She's gonna have to go on tomorrow night and she's really nervous."

"She's the one who gave Penny the cherries, right?"

"Right. She got them from the desk clerk."

"Or so she says," MacGyver mused, his eyes glinting with suspicion.

Joanna's jaw dropped. "You don't think…?"

"Well, she does have motive. This will thrust her into the limelight and no doubt help her career."

"But she's scared to death, Mac! I really think her feelings are genuine. But you could be onto something. Maybe it's one of the other understudies?"

MacGyver tipped his head in thought. "They would all have motive and probably opportunity, but I'm still not convinced Jacques La Rue is as genuine or innocent as Penny says."

Joanna remained silent, as if she knew Mac was working on a plan. And he was.

"Do you still have the program with the cast list?" he asked her.

"Yeah, it's in my purse."

"Good. When you get to work tomorrow, run background checks on all the actors. Get as deep as you can. And see what you can find out about La Rue as well."

"You got it. What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna pay a visit to a certain motel desk clerk."

XXXXX

Bright and early Monday morning MacGyver stood at the front desk of the Glenfield Inn facing a lanky young man in his early twenties.

"Sorry, no vacancy," the man said.

"I'm not here for a room," Mac explained. "I'm here for some answers."

This seemed to get the young man's attention.

"Were you working here yesterday morning?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Did someone deliver a plain white box for a Penny Parker?"

"Yeah."

Boy, this kid either had a very limited vocabulary or he was trying to hide something.

"Did you recognize them? What did they look like?" Mac pressed.

"It was a boy, maybe about ten or so. Just asked me to give the box to Ms. Parker."

"And did you?" MacGyver already knew the answer, but he wanted to make sure the stories matched.

"I was on my way to her room when one of the other actresses, a blonde, said she was headed that way and would take it."

"Then what did you do?"

"I came back here," the clerk shrugged.

Mac sighed, frustrated at the apparent dead end. He bade the young man good bye and was headed to his Jeep when his cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi MacGyver! It's Penny! I've got some great news!"

Penny's bubbly toned made Mac smile in spite of himself. "Hello Penny, what's your great news?"

"The doctor is releasing me this morning! She says I'm almost fully recovered and can leave if I promise to take it easy. Isn't that great?! But I'm gonna need a ride, so if you could come and pick me up that would be super! You can come and pick me up, can't you?"

"No problem. I'm on my way." Mac grinned as he got into the Jeep and drove to the hospital.

His grin immediately turned to a frown when he entered Penny's room to find her already dressed and sitting on the side of the bed talking to a man in a wheelchair. It could only be the infamous Jacques La Rue and MacGyver was more than ready to have a few words with the reclusive director.

"MacGyver!" Penny exclaimed when she saw him. "Look who came to visit me! It's Jacques!"

As the man maneuvered his wheelchair to face the doorway, MacGyver observed that the director was portlier than he had envisioned. He also wore thick glasses and had a bald head.

"Ah, so this is the 'MacGyver' Penny has been telling me about," the older man smiled, reaching out his hand.

Mac stepped forward and shook La Rue's hand even as he raised his eyebrows at Penny who offered and apologetic shrug.

"Ms. Parker was telling me how you so heroically rescued her from an evil assassin who was impersonating me. I owe you a debt of gratitude for protecting this wonderful lady."

"Yeah, well, it was nothing, really," Mac replied, a bit embarrassed as well as surprised at the friendliness and openness with which the director addressed him.

"Oh, Mac does stuff like that all the time," Penny added.

"Well, not _all_ the time," MacGyver rebutted. "In fact, I'm trying to cut back."

Jacques La Rue laughed heartily and Penny giggled along with him. Mac figured now was as good a time as any to get some questions answered.

"Mr. La Rue—"

"Please, call me Jacques! 'Mr. La Rue' makes me feel so old!"

"Jacques," Mac continued, "do you know why anyone might want to harm your lead actresses?"

A dark cloud appeared over the man's countenance and MacGyver waited for Jacques to gather his thoughts.

"The theater is a fickle mistress, my boy. One day you're on top of the world, directing the world's most prestigious performers, the next you are staying in cheap motels, trying to earn enough money to keep the show from going under. Unfortunately, my current status is the latter. If we do not complete this tour in its entirety, my career is ruined."

"So you believe someone is trying to shut down the show."

"Yes, I'm afraid that is so," the director replied sadly.

"Do you have any idea who it might be?"

"Mr. MacGyver, in my position one makes a lot of friends as well as enemies."

They were interrupted when a nurse arrived with Penny's discharge papers. La Rue quietly took his leave and Mac waited before helping Penny to the Jeep.

"Hey! This isn't the way back to the motel!" Penny sputtered twenty minutes later.

"That's right," MacGyver replied. "I'm taking you back to my place. You'll be safer there."

"But I need my stuff!"

"Give me your room key and I'll pick it up later."

"You really think I'm still in danger?" Penny asked despondently.

"Yeah, I do. And even if you're not, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

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Joanna leaned back in her desk chair and massaged her temples. She had been staring at her computer screen since eight o'clock that morning and it was now mid-afternoon. When she had arrived at the office, she had immediately pushed her assigned files to the far corners of her desk which was now littered with computer printouts and various colored notepapers that threatened to tumble onto the floor. Despite the fact that her office looked like a landfill, she actually had gleaned very little information about Jacques La Rue and the female actors Mac had asked her to investigate. From what she could find, La Rue had been a successful theatrical producer and director in his day. Articles reported that he was beloved by performers as well as peers. Unfortunately, his most recent productions had fallen on hard times and he was struggling to stay afloat financially. Perhaps he was sabotaging his own show to collect insurance money. If there was any. As for the actresses, they were all either unknowns or has-beens grateful for any role that would pay the rent. She had just called up the information on the actor who played the eldest brother in the play when there was a light tap on her door and Geena, the receptionist, entered her office.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms. Fairfax, but Mr. MacGyver is on the phone for you."

Joanna wrinkled her brow. "Why didn't he just call me directly?"

"He tried, but said he couldn't get through. I just tried to transfer him to you with the same results. It sounds as if your phone's off the hook."

Together the women shoved aside papers and searched for Jo's telephone. At some point, the receiver had been pushed out of its cradle and hung against the side of Joanna's desk. She let out a low moan as she replaced it, wondering how many calls she had missed. She was just about to speak to Geena when she noticed the woman staring at the picture on the computer monitor.

"Is that who I think it is?" the receptionist asked breathlessly.

"I doubt you know him," Jo informed her. "He's just one of the actors in a play Mac and I went to the other night.

"That's Chad Connors!" Geena exclaimed.

"Who's Chad Connors, besides brother number one?" Joanna asked.

"Don't you watch 'Memorial Hospital', girl?!"

"The soap opera?"

"Of course! That delicious-looking young man right there is none other than Dr. Jack Weaver! Well, at least until he left the show."

"Why did he leave?" Joanna wasn't quite sure why she was interested, but she was.

"The official reason was because of creative differences," Geena explained with an eye roll. "The real reason is anybody's guess. But there've been rumors that the studio's been bombarded with fan mail and they're working hard to get him back. What's his gorgeous face doing on your computer, anyway? Getting tired of looking at that man of yours?" Geena raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the small photo of Mac taped to the corner of Jo's monitor.

Joanna smiled, squashing the urge to tell Geena, yet again, that Mac was not 'her man'. "I'm just doing some research, Geena."

"Okay, whatever you say," the receptionist smirked as she headed back to the outer office.

Jo sat back and studied the face of the apparently famous Chad Connors. His dark hair and piercing brown eyes should have made her swoon. Instead, a shiver slid down her spine as a suspicion took root in her mind. The sudden ring of the telephone startled her.

"Hello?"

"It's about time!"

"Sorry, Mac," Jo grimaced. "I accidentally knocked my phone off the hook."

"Find out anything interesting?" he asked regarding her research.

"Up until a few minutes ago I would have said 'no', but I think I may have changed my mind. I need to do a little more digging."

"Can you come over to my place after work so we can exchange information? I'll pick up Chinese."

Joanna grinned into the phone. "Now how could I possibly refuse an invitation like that?!"

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Late that afternoon, Penny opened MacGyver's front door to find Joanna waiting patiently on the stoop, her myriad notes now tucked neatly inside a manila folder.

"Ya know you don't have to knock," Mac grinned, walking up behind his friend.

"I know," Jo shrugged. "I just don't feel right barging in." She blushed slightly before addressing Penny.

"I'm so glad they let you leave the hospital! Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, but I'll feel a lot better when whoever tried to poison me is behind bars!"

MacGyver ushered the two women to his kitchen table where they passed around containers of various Chinese cuisine. Once they had taken the edge off their hunger, Mac cleared his throat and prepared to eat some crow.

"I met Jacques La Rue today," he informed Joanna. "He was at the hospital when I picked up Penny. I think I really misjudged the guy. He really seems to want to finish the tour and end his career on a positive note."

"See!" Penny gushed, "I told you Jacques was one of the good guys!"

"Are you sure about that, Mac?" Jo asked warily.

"Unless you found something to incriminate him," MacGyver countered.

"Not really, though it had occurred to me that maybe he was trying to sabotage the show to collect some insurance money or something."

"Penny and I talked about that this afternoon. From what we know, he has nothing to gain and everything to lose if the show shuts down. What did you find out about the actors?"

"Not much, and it wasn't for lack of trying," Jo scowled. "But I might have a lead."

MacGyver felt hopeful for the first time that day.

"Do you know who Chad Connors is?"

"Should I?" he asked.

He noticed Penny bouncing in her chair, unable to contain her excitement.

"He plays the eldest brother, but before he signed on with Jacques he played Dr. Jack Weaver on 'Memorial Hospital'! Rumor has it he got mad that they cut one of his scenes and just walked out one day!"

"Isn't that a soap opera?" Mac asked.

Penny nodded vigorously. "On T.V. he's real dreamy, but in real life he's kinda a jerk."

"What do you mean?" Joanna asked.

"When he's not performing all he does is walk around like a big shot and complain about how his career is ruined. He keeps demanding that poor Jacques let him out of his contract, but if he leaves, no one will want to come to the shows. He's the most famous person here!"

"Penny, when you signed your contract, was there some type of clause requiring you to stay for the entire run of the play?" Jo inquired.

"Yeah," Penny shrugged. "It's really not unusual, but I've heard some actors actually ruin their careers because they take legal action to get out of that type of agreement. That never really made sense to me. I mean, you get out of your contract and then you're unemployed!"

"And nobody wants to hire you because you have a bad reputation," MacGyver added.

"But if the show folds, then the contracts are null and void," Joanna mused.

"Go on," Mac encouraged.

"Rumor has it that 'Memorial Hospital' is eager to get Chad back. That has to be why he wants out of his contract with Jacques, and the best way to do that is to shut down the play." Jo concluded.

"You mean Chad is behind all this?! _He_ tried to poison me?!"

"I'm afraid it looks that way," Mac replied sympathetically.

Penny straightened in her chair with new resolve. "Well, can't we have him arrested or something?!"

MacGyver sighed wearily. "We don't have any evidence, Penny."

"Well, how can we get some?"

Her guileless expression twisted his gut. "I don't know. Yet. Let's sleep on it and talk about it in the morning.

He led Jo to the door and quickly kissed her goodnight as Penny trudged up the stairs to the bedroom.

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Penny lay awake, staring up at the ceiling and listening to MacGyver snore softly from the living room couch below. How could he sleep when there was a killer on the loose?! Well, technically Chad wasn't a killer, but he certainly was trying to be! She rolled her head to the side and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was almost midnight. The show should have ended a couple hours ago and, if Chad was true to form, he'd be out at a local bar getting hammered until closing time which meant his motel room would be empty. Mac had said they needed hard evidence against Chad. Well, now was the time to get that!

Penny silently slid out of bed, put on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and grabbed a pair of shoes which she planned to slip into once she was outside. She needed to be as quiet as possible. Tip-toeing down the spiral staircase, she paused every few steps to make sure MacGyver was still sleeping. She then stealthily made her way to the front door, snatching the keys to the Jeep from the brass sailboat keyring holder on the wall. Feeling bolder, she opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Unfortunately, she cut the turn a little too quick and rammed her bare toes into the doorjamb. An inadvertent squeak escaped before the slapped her hand over her mouth and hurried to the driveway.

Except for the light from a few stray lampposts, the motel parking lot was dark and more than a little spooky. Penny parked in front of her room so as not to draw attention and walked across the courtyard to Chad's assigned room. She reached out to turn the doorknob, but of course it was locked.

"Oh, Penny! You can be so stupid sometimes!" she muttered as she headed to the front office.

An old man sat behind the counter. He was slumped in his chair, half asleep behind a newspaper he had been reading.

"Hello?!" Penny called.

"Sorry, no vacancies," the man mumbled before readjusting his paper.

"I don't need a room. I already have one, but I locked myself out. Can I get an extra key?" she asked, using her sweetest smile.

The clerk sighed gustily, asked for the room number, and handed over a key.

"Next time be more careful," he growled, returning to his paper.

Once safely inside Chad's room, Penny looked around and for the first time realized she had no idea what she was looking for! She chewed her lower lip and wondered what MacGyver would do in this situation. After a few moments, she figured he would probably look for something that seemed odd or out of place. She clicked on the lamp next to the bed, hoping the heavy curtains drawn across the large picture window would blot out the light. She really needed a flashlight, but it was too late.

Ready to begin her search, she opened the drawer to the nightstand but found it empty save for the requisite Bible. She then dropped to the floor and peered under the bed, only to be met by numerous dust bunnies that sent her into a sneezing fit. She rummaged through the dresser drawers next, but again found nothing suspicious. She was ready to give up when she remembered the bathroom. She entered the small room and clicked on the light. Unlike her own vanity, which was cluttered with various bottles and tubes of beauty products, Chad's cabinet was empty except for his shaving kit. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she unzipped the leather pouch. Her mouth fell open at what she saw. There, nestled in amongst his razor and other toiletries was a small syringe and a vial of a clear liquid. Penny instinctively reached out to grab the items when a scuffling sound from the other room startled her. Chad had returned! And she was trapped!

Penny frantically looked around as if a window or door would appear out of thin air, but as reality set in and the man's footsteps got closer, she did the only thing she could think of. She stepped into the bathtub, pulled the shower curtain closed, crouched down and focused on quieting her breathing.

She sensed the moment the actor entered the room. She heard him stumble against the commode before apparently leaning against the sink, causing the contents of his shaving kit to clatter to the floor. He cursed loudly and she tried to make herself as small and quiet as possible. She almost gasped when she saw his shadowed figure on the other side of the curtain. Only a thin piece of plastic fabric separated them. Her eyes widen as a large hand snaked around the edge of the curtain, flailing for a few seconds before grabbing onto the shower faucet and giving it a hard yank. The spray of cold water hit Penny and she could stay silent no longer.

"Oh!" she cried, immediately regretting her outburst. The shower curtain flew open and the tall man stood scowling down at her, his hands clenched at his sides.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" he roared.

"I…I...um…" Penny stuttered as she slowly rose and stepped out of the tub, her foot momentarily slipping on the tile floor. Before she could gather herself and fabricate a reasonable explanation, Chad had already shoved her out of the bathroom and pushed her down into a straight-backed chair. He quickly grabbed the telephone, disconnected the extra-long cord, and used it to bind Penny's arms to her torso.

"You'll never get away with this!" Penny spat, finally finding her voice.

"Get away with what?" he snarled. "I'm not the one who was trespassing."

"I wasn't trespassing!" she denied instinctively.

"Oh yeah? Then what would _you_ call it?"

"Ummmm, I forgot which room was mine?"

"Is that the best you can do?!" he rounded on her. "No wonder you're such a lousy actress!"

"I am _not_ a lousy actress! Jacques says I have a lot of potential!" She raised her chin and glared into his beady eyes.

"Well, let's see what he has to say about you when he finds you dead!"

Penny's bravado disappeared immediately. "Dead? Why would he find me dead?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Parker!"

"But…maybe I _am_ dumb," she replied softly, her large eyes full of innocence. Yes, she was dumb alright. Dumb enough to think she could find evidence and get Chad arrested all on her own. Tears threatened as she thought of MacGyver, still asleep on his couch, completely unaware she had left and was in danger. He wasn't going to be her hero this time.

"Look," Chad said, "I saw your friend in the Jeep this morning poking around and asking questions. You figured it out, didn't you?!" he demanded.

"Figured what out?" Penny had seen enough movies to know that the longer you kept a person talking the longer it took for them to kill you…she hoped.

"That I'm the one sabotaging the show to get out of my contract. But if anyone finds out, my career is ruined!"

"I won't say anything, I promise," Penny vowed.

"I know you won't, because I'm going to kill you! I messed up the first time, but it won't happen again!"

He stalked into the bathroom and when he returned Penny noticed him holding a syringe filled with a clear liquid that could only be a deadly dose of cyanide.

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MacGyver grumbled and opened one eye. Something had awakened him. He turned his head to find Frog sleeping soundly underneath the coffee table as usual. An intrinsic need to figure out what woke him pushed him up from the couch and he padded to the kitchen for a drink. He opened the 'fridge, grabbed a carton of juice and took a swig. Maybe Penny had come down for a drink as well? Without turning on a light he slowly made his way upstairs to check on his house guest.

"Penny?" he called in a loud whisper.

No reply.

"Penny?" he called again.

Upon reaching the landing he found himself staring at an empty bed with the door to the adjoining bathroom standing wide open. He swallowed a curse and ran back down the stairs. Maybe she had just stepped outside for some fresh air, he tried to tell himself as panic rose in his chest. He jerked his front door open and looked around quickly. No Penny. And no Jeep!

Thankful that he had decided to sleep fully clothed in deference to having a woman in his house, he quickly grabbed his bomber jacket and the keys to the Nomad. Recalling their conversation from earlier that evening he knew, he just _knew_ , that Penny had gone back to the motel to find evidence against Chad Connors.

He slowed the car as he approached the motel, dousing the headlights before pulling into the parking lot. There was his Jeep, parked outside Penny's room. Maybe she had decided to come and pick up more of her personal items. Granted, it was an odd thing to do in the middle of the night, but he had learned early on that anything was possible with Penny Parker.

He parked the Nomad next to the Jeep and tapped softly on her door. When there was no answer he took out his Swiss Army knife and jimmied the lock. The room was empty and dark. He let go a sigh of both fear and frustration. He looked around at the other rooms, all of which appeared equally dark. He had to find out which one belonged to Chad. And fast! He wasn't in the mood to go another round with a surly desk clerk, but that seemed to be his only option. He was just about to turn and head to the office when a door opened across the parking lot and a young blonde stepped out into the night. Jenny. Mac sprinted across the asphalt and quietly called her name.

"MacGyver! What are you doing here?"

"Have you seen Penny?"

"No. I thought she was staying with you?" Confusion knit her brow.

"She is. She was. Look, do you know which room Chad Connors is staying in?"

"Yeah, room number twelve. What's going on?"

"Hopefully nothing, but just to be safe, go back inside, lock the door, and don't come out no matter what you hear, okay?" A sinking feeling in his gut caused him to add, "And call the police!"

Jenny nodded and Mac waited until she secured the room before moving. He kept his back up against the building and his steps as light as possible as he made his way to the room Jenny had indicated. As he got closer, he heard muffled voices arguing. Even though he couldn't hear the words, there was no doubt that one of those voices belonged to Penny. He stopped at the edge of the large window, trying to peek around the curtain, but it was pulled tight. He had no idea what he'd be walking into, but he didn't have time to worry about it. Chad was in there with Penny and there was no way that was a good thing. He glanced around for anything he could use as a diversion. His eyes lit on a small fire extinguisher bolted on the outside wall next to the door. It probably wasn't large enough to meet the fire code, but for him it would serve as a key, a diversion, and a weapon if needed.

After quietly lifting the extinguisher from its holder and pulling the pin, he aimed the base at the locked door knob. He only had one shot at a surprise entrance so he had to make it good. He raised the red canister and slammed it down hard on the knob which easily gave way. Having announced his presence, he pushed the door open, raised the hose, aimed the nozzle and squeezed the discharge lever sending a cloud of carbon dioxide into the room.

"What the—?!" he heard Chad yell. Diversion accomplished.

But the cylinder ran out of the chemical way too soon. In seconds, the vapor had cleared enough for him to see the athletically built man charging towards him. Mac balanced the now-empty extinguisher in his hands before ramming the device into Chad's abdomen, knocking the breath from his lungs and causing him to drop the syringe. The actor stumbled backwards, lost his balance, and fell, hitting his head on the corner of the table knocking himself out cold.

"Oh MacGyver!" Penny exclaimed as he cut through her bindings. "I didn't think you would find me! How did you know where I was?! I thought for sure Chad would kill me!"

"We need to get out of here before he wakes up," Mac commanded, pulling Penny to her feet but stopping when the excitement on her face turned to horror. Not wanting to turn around but knowing he had to, MacGyver slowly swiveled to find himself face to face with Chad Connors.

"Boy, this guy's got a hard head," he muttered.

A second later, Chad thrust his fist into Mac's gut before hitting him in the jaw with a strong right cross. Mac staggered back, doubled over trying to catch his breath. Chad took another swing, but this time MacGyver was quicker and jumped out of the way. While the other man was recovering from his strike out, Mac balled his hand into a hard fist and smacked the other man square in the face. There was the sickening sound of cartilage breaking as Mac made contact and then the moans as Chad grabbed his nose and fell to his knees, blood flowing everywhere. For good measure, Penny came up beside him and kicked her would-be killer in the ribs turning the moans into curses. Mac shook out his fist. Man that hurt! Why did he keep doing things like this?! Suddenly, the room was awash in light as police offers moved in to grab their prisoner. Mac took Penny by the arm and gently led her from the room. Most of the other performers had heard the commotion and now huddled in small groups in the parking lot as their eldest "brother" was escorted to a waiting squad car.

"You saved my life again!" Penny cried, as she wrapped her arms around MacGyver's neck and hugged him tight.

"Nothin' to it," he grinned, returning her grateful gesture.

XXXXX

The following evening, MacGyver, Penny, Joanna, and Jacques gathered backstage before the final performance. Actors hustled by practicing lines and dance steps. The theater began to swell with spectators and there was electricity in the air.

"Are you positive this is what you want?" the director asked Penny in a fatherly tone.

"Yes, Jacques, I'm sure," she replied gently. "I'll miss the excitement and all, but I really feel like it's time for me to go home and put down some roots." She looked at Mac and Jo and smiled. "Maybe I'll even find me a guy to marry and have some kids. Not a lot, though. Maybe only one or two. Or maybe I won't have any so I can be free to travel. But then again, that wouldn't exactly be putting down roots, would it?" she laughed.

Jacques took Penny's hand. "Just be happy, my dear. Follow your heart wherever it takes you!"

"What about you, Jacques?" MacGyver asked. "What will you do once the play finishes touring?"

The older man's expression turned thoughtful, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

"I had every plan to retire and live out my days in a reclusive French villa," he replied. "But once news got out about this whole sabotage ordeal, well, it seems I'm a sought after director once again!"

"Hey, that's great!" Mac responded. "But I thought this ordeal would actually _hurt_ your career."

Jacques smiled. "In show business, any exposure is good exposure. My name and works have been revived!"

"So you think you'll continue working?" This time it was Joanna's question.

"Time will tell, my dear! Time will tell."

The overhead lights began to blink before the conversation could continue.

"Looks like that's our cue to head to our seats," Mac observed. "Thanks again for inviting us," he said to Jacques.

"After what you did, it was my pleasure! Please go and enjoy the show!"

MacGyver and Joanna had just settled into their front row seats when the house lights began to dim. Mac slung his arm around Jo's shoulders, pulled her close, and began to nuzzle her ear.

"Stop it, Mac! Everyone is watching!"

"So? Let 'em!" he murmured as the curtain rose.


	16. Homecoming

**Homecoming**

MacGyver paced the airport's concourse much as an expectant father would pace the maternity ward, except that _his_ son would be delivered by a commercial jetliner straight from Heathrow as opposed to a doctor in scrubs. He had been anxiously awaiting this day ever since Sam called to say he was coming home so why was he so nervous? Perhaps it was because, for the first time in two and a half years, Sam was coming home…to stay.

"Dad! Dad!" the dark-haired young man called, waving one arm in the air as he pushed his way through the crowd of people that had deplaned with him.

MacGyver easily detected his son's voice amidst the din of the other passengers and wasn't even concerned about the goofy grin he knew he wore. Before he knew it, he was locked in a tight embrace with his widely-smiling offspring as they heartily patted each other's back. After a few moments, Sam backed away and glanced around the open waiting area, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

"Where's Joanna?" he demanded. "Is she okay? You guys didn't break up, did you?!"

"Relax, Sam," Mac replied as he put a calming hand on Sam's shoulder. "She's still at work, but she promised to meet us for dinner."

"Sorry for overreacting," Sam apologized sheepishly. "I forget she's still at the law firm."

"No problem. What do you say we grab your luggage and get outta here?"

The two men made their way to baggage claim where they joined the group of travelers gathered around the carousel waiting for the conveyor belt to regurgitate their belongings. It didn't take long before an old, worn rucksack slid down the ramp and landed in front of Sam who quickly snatched it up.

"All right, let's go!" Sam said, turning to leave, but Mac grabbed his arm, keeping him in place.

"That's all you got?" MacGyver asked incredulously. "Over two years living abroad and all you come home with is that?"

Sam chuckled. "Dad, most of that time I was imbedded with troops who were constantly on the move, the rest of my time I spent in a furnished apartment traveling around Europe. I didn't need that much."

"And I thought _I_ packed light," Mac muttered as they left the airport.

"So, tell me again what happened. You were kinda vague on the phone," Mac said as he maneuvered the Jeep through the city traffic. It was a warm day so the top was off and the breeze ruffled their hair.

"There's not much to tell," Sam shrugged, not looking at his dad. "My editor in London has a friend at the Tribune. He sent him some of my work and the guy was impressed. Offered me a job right away."

"I'm so proud of you Sam. And your mom would be, too." Mac praised. "All your hard work has finally paid off and now you're working for the Chicago Tribune."

Mac glanced at his son who stared out the windshield. His stomach did a little flip, but he blamed it on the day's excitement, not Sam's odd demeanor.

"So when do you start?" MacGyver asked, attempting to get more information.

"In a week or two. They're giving me time to get settled. I was kinda planning on crashing at your place for a while."

"That'll work," Mac grinned. "I'll take some time off from Challengers and we can go apartment hunting."

"Yeah, sure," Sam replied, not sounding nearly as excited as MacGyver expected him to.

XXXXX

"That boy's driving me nuts, Jo," Mac complained a few days later as they were closing up Challengers for the night.

"He's hardly a boy," Jo snickered.

"Well, he sure is acting like one," MacGyver groused. "We spent the last two days apartment hunting in Chicago and he found something wrong with every single one of them! Every. Single. One."

"This has to be a huge adjustment for him," Joanna tried to reason. "A new job, a new place to live, it can be as overwhelming as it is exciting."

"I guess you're right," Mac sighed.

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The following Saturday, Cynthia carefully returned her paint roller to the tray and stretched out her back. Joanna did the same.

"Looks good," the older woman commented as she looked around the final dorm room to be painted. "We should be able to finish it up this afternoon. How about we break for lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jo agreed, stifling a yawn. Working at the firm and volunteering at Challengers was catching up with her. And starting next week the club was scheduled to be open twenty-four hours a day every day of the week. She'd have to make time to help out as much as possible until MacGyver and Cynthia could get more volunteers.

The two women plodded down the stairs only to find Sam waiting for them in the rec area.

"I'm sorry, dear, but your dad's not here," Cynthia told him. "He's at a City Council meeting. Every now and again they like to see the man behind the lease instead of me," she grinned.

"I know," he replied. "I was actually here to see Jo."

Joanna's eyes grew wide with surprise, but she turned and nodded to Cynthia who quietly slipped into her office.

"Hey Sam, what's up?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat even though the young man in front of her looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Wanna go grab a cheeseburger or something?"

"No," he answered softly, staring at his shoes. "I was wondering if we could talk. In private."

"Sure," she replied, her tone low and serious. Sam glanced at Cynthia's office and his brow furrowed. "Why don't we step out back and get some fresh air," Jo suggested.

Once seated side-by-side on the small stoop, Sam continued to avoid Jo's eyes and she waited patiently for him to begin the conversation even though worry gnawed at her. She had never seen the young man so quiet and dejected. He was like a stranger to her.

"Sam?" she prompted gently after several minutes of awkward silence. "What did you want to talk about?"

He threw a quick glance her way and she saw unshed tears welling in his eyes. "It's gonna sound really stupid. Maybe I shouldn't have come here."

"Well, you're here now and I doubt anything you have to say is gonna sound stupid."

His eyes still locked on the concrete beneath them he mumbled, "I miss my mom."

He then turned his head so he was looking Joanna straight in the eye. "I mean, I _really_ miss her! How stupid is that?!"

Tears streamed down his cheeks as Jo put an arm around his shoulders to comfort him.

"It's not stupid at all," she assured him softly.

"How can you say that?!" His grief suddenly morphing into anger. "She's been gone fifteen years! I shouldn't miss her like this!"

Jo's voice was gentle but firm. "Sam, you watched your mother get murdered. That isn't something you forget and it certainly isn't something that stops hurting. Have you talked to your dad about this?"

Sam shook his head. "I can't. That's why I came to you."

Joanna's heartbeat hitched at the blind trust he had in her. "Why can't you talk to Mac?"

"He won't understand. He had forgotten all about her until I showed up!"

Jo was treading in deep water and she knew it. "I don't think you give him enough credit. You need to talk to him, otherwise this will always come between you."

"There's more," he mumbled.

"There's no job at the Tribune, is there?"

"How did you know?!"

Joanna shrugged. "Call it 'women's intuition' if you want. It's just that the Sam Malloy I know would be in seventh heaven and chomping at the bit to start his new job even if it meant living in a bus station. From what your dad is telling me, you're doing everything in your power to avoid moving to Chicago."

"You're not wrong," Sam smiled through his now-subsiding tears.

"And you know you have to talk to your dad about all of this."

"I know."

XXXXX

The following afternoon, Joanna parked her car in front of MacGyver's townhouse. She had come on the pretense that he needed to sign some documents so Cynthia could get them in the mail first thing the next day, but really she wanted to know if he and Sam had talked yet. The driveway was empty, but one of them could still be home. Approaching the front door, she raised her fist to knock before recalling how Mac had chided her formality. She tested the doorknob and, finding it unlocked, let herself in.

"Mac? Sam?" she called, but got no response. It wasn't like Mac to leave his doors unlocked. Perhaps Sam had been the last one to leave and forgot. Looking around the large living area she sighed. Clothes, towels and other miscellaneous items lay strewn across the floor and furniture. She placed the envelope containing the documents on the kitchen counter before stooping to collect the pieces of clothing she recognized as belonging to MacGyver. She knew he wasn't a neat freak, but he also wasn't a slob. His son was definitely having a bad influence on him!

Arms full, she carefully made her way upstairs where she tossed the pile of laundry on the bed. When she looked up from the heap it was to find MacGyver standing in the bathroom doorway, drying his unruly hair with one white towel while another was wrapped around his waist, his skin still glistening with moisture. She let out an instinctive squeak and quickly turned her back to him.

"Hey there! I didn't hear you come in. I was in the shower," he addressed her nonchalantly.

"Obviously," she muttered shyly as she felt him draw closer.

"I didn't startle you, did I?" he asked, taking hold of her upper arm and coaxing her to swivel toward him.

"No! I just wasn't expecting…um…" she blushed furiously and couldn't find the words to finish her sentence. Shoot, she couldn't find any words at all as she stared at his broad shoulders, sturdy abs, and the little cluster of dark curly hair in the center of his chest. She was pretty certain she would need to go to confession if she didn't rein in her thoughts quickly. Unfortunately, Mac didn't seem inclined to assist her with that as he took her hands and placed them on his bare shoulders before looping his arms around her waist.

"With Sam in the bathroom at all hours, I have to catch a shower whenever I can," he offered, grinning mischievously.

"I…I can see that," Jo stammered, feeling like a naïve teenager and wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

"I didn't embarrass you, did I?" he asked, his smile fading.

"Of course not!" Jo shot back, summoning all the bravado she had even as the heat from his skin seared the palms of her hands, but she was unable to pull them away. She was suddenly aware of the back of his forefinger gently caressing her cheek.

"You know that feeling you have right now?" he asked huskily. "That's the feeling I get every time I see you in one of my hockey jerseys, or sleeping on my couch, or doing practically anything or nothing at all."

"Really?" she asked breathlessly.

"Really," he confirmed. "And it's not a bad thing. But right now I think I should get dressed."

He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, breaking the spell she had been under. He released her from his grasp and she reclaimed her hands.

"Could you hand me a pair of boxers?" he asked, indicating the bureau behind her. "Second drawer from the top."

With still slightly unsteady hands she opened the drawer and extracted a pair of cream colored undershorts. She held them at arm's length between her thumb and forefinger like a three-day-old fish and wrinkled her nose.

"What's wrong?" he chuckled.

"I don't know. They're just so _plain_. I guess I was expecting something with more pizazz."

"What kind of 'pizazz'?" he asked warily.

"Oh, I don't know," she responded, her playfulness returning. "Something more colorful, maybe with little hockey sticks or cowboy hats on them."

"Well, if this is going to be an issue for you I could go shopping later," he suggested.

"Just get yourself dressed," Jo ordered as she wadded up his boring boxers and tossed them smack in his face. "I'll be waiting downstairs."

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Ten minutes later, after pulling on a pair of khakis and a collarless, turquois shirt, MacGyver headed down to the kitchen to find Joanna sitting patiently at the cluttered breakfast bar.

"So, what brings you by?" he asked.

"Cynthia needs you to sign some papers," she responded, waving absently at the large brown envelope next to her elbow.

Mac raised his eyebrows so they were almost touching his bangs. "It couldn't wait until tomorrow morning?"

"Well…actually…I was kinda wondering if Sam had a chance to talk to you," Jo hedged.

Mac sighed and sat down on the stool next to Jo's. "Yeah, we talked. A lot."

"And…?"

"Kate's been a part of my past for so long, it never occurred to me that she was still a part of Sam's present." Mac scrubbed his face with his hands before continuing. "Sam was on assignment in Saudi Arabia. There was a military skirmish in the village where he was staying. He saw a mother get shot in front of her children. It kinda brought everything back for him, ya know?"

Jo nodded her understanding but remained silent.

"As soon as he got back to London he put in his notice, finished up his assignments, and arranged to come home. His editor over there _does_ have a friend at the Tribune and Sam's gonna look him up when he's ready."

"I just don't get why Sam thought you wouldn't understand."

Mac shrugged. "He said he was afraid I'd be ashamed of him wanting to come home and settle down. He knows that at his age I was still hungry to see and do whatever I could and he felt like he should follow in my footsteps. The funny thing is, a part of me has always wondered what my life would have been like if I had come home, or at least found a place to put down roots, sooner."

"Did you tell Sam that?"

"Yeah."

"So things are okay between you two?"

Mac smiled. "I'd say better than okay, and I have you to thank for that."

"Me? I didn't do anything."

"You were there for my son when he felt he couldn't come to me. I'd say that's _everything_."

XXXXX

A few days later, MacGyver was in the middle of reclaiming his living room from his son's dubious housekeeping skills when Sam came bounding through the front door, cell phone in hand.

"Dad! Guess what?!"

"You finally got a date with that cute checker from the supermarket!" Mac teased.

"C'mon, Dad, I'm serious!"

"Alright, what's the big news?"

"I just got done talking with my editor's friend at the Tribune and he wants to bring me on board!"

"Sam, that's great!" Mac exclaimed as they exchanged high fives and a brief hug before Sam became unusually somber.

"There's only one problem," he said flatly.

"What's that?"

"I'll have to work as a stringer until a full-time position opens up."

"So? You've done that before," Mac pointed out encouragingly, still excited about his son's news.

"Yeah, but you know what that means. I'll be covering stories that don't warrant a big name reporter and I'll have to free-lance whenever I can. But more importantly, I won't be receiving a regular paycheck, and you saw how much apartments cost in Chicago. Especially something close to the Tribune," Sam sighed and dropped down on the couch.

"Well, you have some money saved up, right? There's gotta be a way," MacGyver pressed.

"You can't build me an apartment out of duct tape and paperclips, Dad," Sam said dejectedly.

"That's not what I meant," Mac scowled. "I meant we need to think of other options."

"You mean like commuting?" Sam offered.

"Yeah, that could work. You could use my Jeep."

"Have you seen the price of gas lately?" Sam asked. "I'd burn through my savings in no time!"

"You got a point," Mac agreed.

"Too bad you don't live in Chicago, Dad. Then I could just keep bunking with you!" Sam chuckled.

"Of course!" Mac exclaimed, slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Why didn't I think of this sooner?! You could stay with the Thornton's!"

"But I hardly know them," Sam grimaced. "Don't ya think it'd be kinda awkward?"

"Nah!" Mac replied excitedly. "You and Pete will get along great, and I know Connie will love to have someone else in the house to dote on. You want me to call 'em?"

Sam shrugged. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot."

MacGyver grabbed his cordless phone, dialed the number he knew by heart, and paced as he waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Pete! It's me!"

"Who's 'me'?" the older man asked gruffly.

"Pete, it's me! MacGyver!"

"I'm sorry. You must have the wrong number. The MacGyver _I_ know waits until the middle of the night when I'm fast asleep to call and then he has the nerve to ask me for a favor. I don't suppose you're gonna ask me for a favor, are ya?"

Mac closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "C'mon Pete, those were emergencies."

"I know, Mac! Lighten up! I was just teasing you!"

"Oh? Well very funny."

"I thought so! What's up?"

"Well, I sorta have a—"

"I knew it! You have a favor to ask!"

"It's not so much a favor as a proposal," Mac replied diplomatically.

"Oh really? And what, exactly, is this proposal?"

"Sam landed a job at the Tribune and needs a place to stay until he saves enough for an apartment. I thought he could stay in your guest room in the meantime."

"Gee, I don't know Mac…"

"Aw, c'mon Pete! It'll be great! Sam's a great kid! He's even housebroken!"

Pete chuckled. "Well…I'll have to talk to Connie. Can I call you back?"

"Sure thing. We'll be waiting. Thanks, Pete!"

XXXXX

Late Saturday morning MacGyver turned his Jeep into the Thornton's driveway. Connie threw open the front door and came to greet them before he could turn off the ignition.

"It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, enveloping Mac in a surprisingly strong hug as he stepped from the car.

Sam jumped out and grabbed his luggage, such as it was, from the back seat before he, too, was accosted by Pete's wife.

"Looks like _she's_ glad to see me," Sam commented as the followed the woman into the house.

"And Pete will be, too," MacGyver assured his son. "He pretends to be tough, but really he's just a big old teddy bear."

"Hey, who're you calling 'old'?" Pete complained from his chair in the living room.

"It's good to see you, too!" Mac greeted his friend with a firm handshake before Sam did the same.

"I really appreciate you letting me stay here, Mr. Thornton."

"It's our pleasure, and please call me 'Pete'."

"And I'm 'Connie'," the petite woman instructed as she carried a tray of glasses filled with lemonade into the room just as Mac and Sam settled themselves on the couch. "It's such a pity Joanna couldn't come with you."

"She wanted to, but this is the first weekend Challengers Club is open for the summer and someone had to stay and help out Cynthia," Mac informed her before taking a sip of his tart drink.

"Well, now that Sam is living here perhaps you and she will visit more often," Connie said hopefully. "She's such a sweet girl. You know, MacGyver, you should really think about—"

"Connie! Leave Mac alone," Pete scolded. "He doesn't need you poking your nose into his love life!"

Time passed quickly as the small group caught up on everyone's activities and the success of Challengers. Once Connie had settled Sam into the guest room to her satisfaction she served a light lunch. Conversation continued well into the afternoon as Sam regaled his new friends with stories of his adventures in the Middle East and Europe.

"Sounds like a chip off the old block!" Pete observed with a smile.

"Yeah, he sure is," Mac agreed before looking down at his watch with a frown. "Pete, what time does that used car lot you told me about close?"

"Being a Saturday, they close at four."

Mac looked to Sam. "If you want to check it out we should get going," he advised.

"Sounds good to me," Sam replied.

An hour and some haggling later, Sam was the proud owner of a twenty-year-old faded yellow Volkswagen Beetle.

"What's with the frown, Dad?" he asked, as he examined his 'new' car.

"I was hoping you'd get something a little newer and more reliable," Mac shrugged.

"Newer? This is a classic!"

"No Sam. The Nomad's a classic. This one's just _old!_ "

"Aw, c'mon Dad! I can handle any mechanical problems that might come up," Sam gushed. "Besides, it's all I can afford, and it only has to get me to the train station and back."

MacGyver reluctantly agreed and the two men headed back to the Thornton's in their respective vehicles. After admiring Sam's new acquisition, Connie insisted Mac stay for supper before driving home. He had just taken his last bite of pie when Sam stood up and whisked his plate away.

"Hey! You never clear the table at home!"

"True. But I'm your son so I don't have to make a good impression on _you_!"

Everyone laughed and soon it was time for Mac to take his leave. He shook Pete's hand and hugged Connie before they disappeared, giving him and Sam some privacy for their good-bye's.

"So, what do you think?" Mac asked.

Sam smiled. "I think I'm gonna like it here," he confirmed. "Pete and Connie seem pretty cool. Thanks for setting this up."

"Hey, that's what dads are for!"

After an exchange of hugs and hearty pats on the back, Mac headed to his Jeep. He looked back and watched through the large bay window as Sam locked the door and walked down the hall to his room. Finally, his son was home.


	17. Vengeance

**Vengeance**

Sam slowly opened his eyes and squinted at the ray of sunlight streaming in the window of the guest room. Well, he supposed it was his room, now. Rolling onto his back, he stretched like a lazy cat, the scent of homemade waffles drifting through the air tickling his nostrils. He smiled. He had been living with the Thornton's for over a week now and was surprised at how content he was. He knew he could count on warm meals, easy conversation, and a comfortable bed. A far different life than he had been living overseas where his flat was cold and empty and his bed was hard. That is, when he _had_ a bed and wasn't sleeping in a fox hole or transport vehicle while imbedded with U.S. troops in the Middle East.

After a quick shower, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading to the kitchen. Raised voices came from the room, causing him to stop just short of the doorway.

"I'm telling you, Connie, you're spoiling him!" Pete scolded his wife.

"Oh, nonsense! I just want to make him feel welcome! It's so good having a boy in the house again."

"That's just it!" Pete argued. "He's not a boy, he's a man. A man who can take care of himself without you hovering over him all the time!"

"I'm just fixing him breakfast, Peter. That's hardly a federal offense."

Sam cleared his throat and walked into the room before Pete could respond.

"Hi guys," the young man greeted the older couple, effectively ending their argument.

He had barely taken a seat across the table from Pete when Connie placed a plateful of waffles dripping in warm maple syrup in front of him. He smiled up at her.

"Thanks, Connie," he said warmly. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation and Pete's right. You don't need to take care of me. I've been on my own a long time."

"All the more reason to give you a little extra TLC now that you're home!"

Even though Pete was blind, his silent eye-roll spoke volumes.

"I saw that, Peter Thornton!" Connie admonished.

Sam grinned and wolfed down his gooey sweet breakfast before getting up and grabbing his camera bag.

"I gotta get to the paper," he announced. "Thanks for breakfast. I'll get out of your hair now, so to speak," he snickered as he patted Pete's bald head. The older man's face turned red and Sam made a hasty exit.

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MacGyver leaned casually against the door jamb of his office watching the group of teens in the rec area. Word of the club was spreading and Challengers was becoming a popular place to hang out. The phone rang, demanding his attention.

"Challengers Club," he answered automatically.

"Hey Mac, it's me."

"Hi Pete! What's up?!"

"What's up? My blood pressure! That's what's up!"

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with Sam?" he asked warily.

"No," Pete said firmly. "It has _everything_ to do with Sam! Connie's been coddling him worse than she did with Michael and what does he do? He comes and goes at all hours, plays that awful noise kids his age call music, and to top it off he makes fun of my hair!"

"What hair?" Mac asked, trying to keep his tone serious.

"Like father, like son," Pete grumbled and MacGyver smiled.

"C'mon Pete, it's only until he can earn enough money to get his own place. As for Connie? He seems to bring out the maternal instinct in women. I've even seen it with Jo."

"But Joanna's different!" Pete retorted. "I mean, she's practically his step-mother!"

MacGyver let go a strangled cough. "I'll talk to Sam as soon as I can," he promised.

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When Sam walked into the Tribune, the whole building was abuzz with activity and he quickly tracked down the editor he'd been assigned to.

"Got anything for me today?" he asked the grumpy, over-weight man.

"Not today, kid," the editor grumbled as he pushed pass the younger man. But Sam, with a reporter's persistence, was not deterred that easily.

"C'mon Hank," Sam pleaded. "This place is a mad house. You must have _something_ that needs covered."

Hank turned to Sam and sighed. "Well, there is this pro-am charity auto race this weekend. They've been clamoring for some press coverage. Maybe you could go over, take a few pictures, you know the routine."

"Thanks Hank! You're the best!"

Sam quickly commandeered the nearest computer and soon found the necessary information he needed about his new assignment. The Fairview Raceway was hosting a pro-am charity stock car race to benefit Gulf War veterans the following weekend. Each of the fifteen cars would represent a home-town vet and have the soldier's name scrawled on the hood. He perused the list of entrants, but didn't recognize any names. Apparently the "pros" weren't top names in the sport and the amateurs were probably local kids looking to break into the big time. Finding the contact information at the bottom of the page, Sam placed a call, scheduled an appointment, and then grabbed his satchel and headed out.

The next morning, Sam pulled his Bug up to the security gate at the race track and was directed to the main offices where he was to meet the track manager. As he parked his car in the small lot, he turned and surveyed his surroundings. Except for the one mile oval track and grandstand, he was essentially in the middle of nowhere. No wonder management had been asking for press coverage. He stepped into the small office building and introduced himself to the receptionist who immediately led him to a small room where he met the track manager. The jovial man was smiling broadly and soon Sam had secured a press pass and full access to the track.

Minutes later he was walking through the tunnel that ran under the grandstand and deposited him on the infield and pit area where teams were working on and testing their cars. Fumes of oil, gas, and burning rubber assaulted him, making him smile just a bit. The race was still a few days away so crews leisurely made engine and chassis adjustments as drivers took to the track to test the set-up of the car they would drive on Sunday. Sam pulled out his camera and began taking candid shots of various cars and crew members which earned him many smiles and friendly greetings. However, when he reached an area that a sign designated as belonging to the Stanley Reed Team, the mood was decidedly sullen and the air laden with disappointment. A small group of men in jumpsuits huddled around what appeared to be a brightly painted and very damaged race car. A younger man hovered in the background, his left leg in a plaster cast.

"Rough day at the track?" Sam quipped, hoping to lighten the mood but was apparently unsuccessful as a stocky, middle-aged man pinned him with his gaze.

"We ain't here to play show-and-tell," the man growled. "Go get your story someplace else."

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized sincerely. "Mind telling me what happened? I might be able to help."

This time the man laughed sadly. "You got any experience with racing, son?"

"A little."

"Well, then you should know that it's gonna take a lot more than a little help from you to get this car ready to go _and_ get us a new driver by Sunday."

Sam moved closer to get a better look at the car.

"I've seen worse," he commented. "And events like this usually bring out drivers lookin' for a ride."

" _Usually_. But this is a charity event. No money for the winner therefore not a lot of guys looking to drive."

"I might be able to help with that, too," he grinned. "Name's Sam Malloy." He put out his hand which the older man reluctantly shook.

"I'm Ray Simmons, team owner. Over there is my son and driver, Bobby." He used his chin to indicate the young man with the injured leg. "Well, former driver. Brake line ruptured during a practice lap and he got up close and personal with the wall."

"Ruptured?" Sam's reporter curiosity was piqued. "Isn't that pretty unusual?"

"Yeah," Ray sighed, scratching his head, "Especially since we had just replaced it. But every now and again you get a dud. That's racing."

"I assume you still have it. Do you mind if I take a look at it?" Sam asked.

"Sure, follow me."

Ray led Sam up the steps of a trailer that doubled as a portable garage and motioned to the workbench on the far side. Sam gingerly ran his index figure around the edge of the whole where the line had broken. Something didn't feel right.

"I don't suppose you have a magnifying glass or anything?"

"Not that I know of, but would these help?" Ray held out a pair of plastic rimmed reading glasses. "Wife insists I wear them to read the fine print before signing anything," he chuckled humorlessly.

"Yeah, these should work," Sam replied as he popped out one of the lenses and positioned it so he could see the rupture point more clearly.

"I'm not so sure the line broke by accident," Sam informed him. "Come here and look at this."

The two men bent their heads over the piece in question.

"See how the edge is jagged all around except for this little section right here?" Sam asked. "It's smooth. As if someone cut it. Kinda gave it a head start."

The older man squinted. "Well, I'll be! Whatever made you think to look for that?"

"Just a hunch," Sam shrugged. "I suggest you get this to the proper authorities, though. And it probably wouldn't hurt to alert the other teams to check theirs out just in case."

"I'll get right on it! But who on God's green earth would do something like this?"

"That I can't help you with, sir, but if you're interested, I can still help you get that car fixed up and take her for a spin on Sunday. I'm no Dale Earnhardt, but I'll do my best."

"That's an awful hard offer to refuse, son," Ray said thoughtfully.

"Then don't refuse," Sam smiled. "Just tell me what to do!"

With the extra manpower and renewed sense of purpose, the Stanley Reed Team got to work fixing up the race car. To their relief, the damage wasn't as extensive as initially believed and what couldn't be repaired could be replaced. One long day and an even longer night later, the car was deemed race-worthy. In the stillness of the early morning, Sam pulled on his fire retardant jumpsuit and, with helmet in hand, started towards the track where he was to take his first practice run. Butterflies of both excitement and trepidation flitted in his stomach, but he quickly tamped them down, knowing he had to keep his cool if he was serious about driving. As he walked across the dew-dampened grass of the infield, he was intercepted by a tall, sandy-haired man he didn't recognize. A few years older than Sam, the man stood ramrod straight as his face broke into a smile.

"I hear you're the man to thank for keeping the team from dropping out of the race," the stranger said.

"Well, I wouldn't say _that_ ," Sam replied self-consciously, running his fingers through his dark brown hair.

"I would! Especially since that's my name on the car. I'm Stanley Reed, the veteran that car is representing."

The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries as they made their way to the pit area. Once there, Sam put on his helmet, slid through the window of the car, and allowed various crew members to adjust and secure the harness that would keep him strapped to the seat. When all safety precautions had been satisfied, Sam eased the machine down pit lane and onto the track, picking up momentum as he went. With each lap, he got a better feel for the car and its handling. Soon he was speeding around the track as if he did this every weekend. The engine hummed and the steering wheel vibrated and he was lovin' every minute of it. The crew monitored his progress and radioed in instructions and encouragement and his confidence grew. Suddenly, the wheel jerked and became loose in his hands, his steering gone. Sam frantically braked and shifted gears as the car headed for the wall, but it was out of control. He felt the car hit and then go airborne before landing on its side, the metal of the body screeching and sparking against the asphalt of the track. He felt his restraints break free as his head hit something hard and then everything went black.

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"This is nice. I'm glad you could take the afternoon off," MacGyver commented before biting into his deli sandwich.

"I have the time coming so I might as well take it," Joanna replied lightly. "You usin' that pickle?"

Mac regarded the limp spear lying untouched on the wrapper. "Oh, I get it, you only love me for my food!" he teased while reaching across his desk to hand her the requested item.

"That's not true!" she protested, still eyeing his midday meal spread out in front of him. "Are you gonna eat your cookie?"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, I am!" Mac laughed as Joanna pretended to pout.

The shrill ring of the telephone interrupted their friendly banter.

"Hello?"

"MacGyver, it's Pete."

"Hey Pete! What annoying thing did Sam do now?"

"He's been in an accident, Mac."

MacGyver shot to his feet. His whole world narrowed to the voice on the other end of the phone line.

"What kind of accident?"

"A car accident."

Mac sucked in his breath and bit his lip, fighting to contain his emotions.

"How is he? What's happening, Pete?"

"Connie and I are here at the hospital, but they won't tell us anything because we're not relatives."

"Why wasn't I called?" Mac ground out. "I'm his father!"

"Apparently Sam listed me and Connie as his emergency contacts at the Tribune. He probably thought it made sense since he's living with us."

"Stay with him, Pete. I'm on my way."

Mac hung up the phone and turned to catch Jo's questioning gaze.

"Mac?" her voice waivered.

"Sam's been in a car accident. He's in the hospital and they won't tell Pete anything. I'm gonna call Cynthia and have her cover for me here, then go home and pack a bag with some stuff for a few days. You do the same and I'll swing by and pick you up."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I've got this. Now let's hustle."

XXXXX

The automatic doors of the Emergency department swished open and MacGyver rushed through, Joanna hurrying to keep up with him. He quickly glanced around the waiting room and found Pete and Connie seated in uncomfortable molded plastic chairs.

"Any news?" he asked, as Connie enveloped him and then Joanna in a motherly hug.

"Not yet," Pete sighed.

"But it's been hours!" Mac protested.

Just then a doctor in a white lab coat entered the waiting area, his gaze lighting upon the small group.

"Are you family of Sam Malloy?" he asked.

"I'm his father. How is he?"

"Very lucky. We just got the results of his CT scan. He has a severe concussion, a few cracked ribs, and a very bruised shoulder, but given the circumstances it could have been a lot worse. In fact, he's already beginning to regain consciousness which is a good sign as well."

"When can we see him?"

"I'm afraid I can only allow one person back at a time, and then not for long," the physician offered apologetically.

Mac looked at Joanna who nodded before he allowed the doctor to lead him back to see Sam. The man pulled back the curtains that cordoned off the treatment bays, allowing MacGyver to enter.

"Hey Dad," Sam whispered huskily, his eyes slightly unfocused and his skin pale.

"Hey yourself," Mac replied, trying to sound lighthearted as myriad emotions churned in his gut at seeing his only son lying weak and helpless in a hospital bed.

As MacGyver walked further into the room, he noticed the scratched and dented helmet sitting on the bedside table.

"Pete said you were in a car accident. What's with the motorcycle helmet?"

Pete's right and that's not a motorcycle helmet," Sam answered, his eyes focused on the far wall. "I was taking practice laps in a race car when it flipped."

"What?!" Mac exclaimed, before looking around self-consciously and lowering his voice. "What?!" he repeated in a loud whisper.

"It started out as an assignment, but it's kinda a long story. You gotta do me a favor, Dad." Sam reached out and grasped MacGyver's forearm. "You need to check out the car before anyone else can. It's at the Fairview Raceway in the Stanley Reed trailer."

"What's this all about, Sam?" Mac demanded, shaking his head as he tried to make sense of what his son was telling him.

"I think the car was sabotaged. My steering went way loose and my harness broke. I don't think it was by accident."

"Stuff like that happens, Sam. That's what makes the sport dangerous."

Sam slowly shook his head. "It wasn't the first time. Bobby, the original driver, got hurt 'cause the brake line was cut."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave now," the doctor said from the doorway. "We're going to admit Sam and move him to a private room. You can see him again once he's settled."

"Dad, please…" Sam pleaded as two orderlies appeared to wheel him from the emergency bay.

Against his better judgement, Mac nodded his agreement as Sam was taken away. Back in the waiting room, he explained that Sam was being admitted before pulling Joanna off to the side.

"I need to go check something out," he told her quietly. "Can you stay with him 'til I get back?"

She nodded, but he could see the questions and concern in her eyes. Unfortunately, he didn't want to say anything more until he was sure about what was going on.

Forty-five minutes later, MacGyver pulled his Jeep up to the security booth at the race track. After providing identification and receiving directions, he made his way to where Sam had indicated.

"Excuse me!" he called as he approached a group of men in the area reserved for the Stanley Reed Team. "Is one of you Ray Simmons?"

"That'd be me," a stocky man said, stepping away from the others.

"Name's MacGyver. I'm Sam's dad."

"Pleasure to meet you. Too bad it isn't under better circumstances. How is the boy?"

"He'll live," Mac said with a crooked smile. "But he did ask me to take a look at the car he was driving."

"Looks like curiosity runs in the family," Ray chuckled. "It's pretty beat up but you're welcome to look all you like." He pointed MacGyver to where the car had been towed.

"Thanks. Appreciate it!"

Mac took his time examining both the steering mechanisms as well as the safety harness. His frown deepened as, one by one, members of the crew approached, some peering over his shoulder.

"I hate to say this, but it looks like this car's been tampered with," MacGyver announced as he straightened to his full height. "See that?" he asked, pointing to a contraption under the hood. "That's what caused the steering to go. And here," Mac continued, leaning in through the driver's side window and fiddling with the safety belts. "They're mostly frayed, but if you look closely you can see where little cuts have been made. The force of the accident and strain from Sam's body weight caused them to tear apart."

Simmons took off the baseball cap he was wearing and scratched his head.

"I just don't understand why this is happening! This is a charity event for goodness sake!"

"Can you think of anyone who might have a personal vendetta? Someone with access to the car?"

Ray shook his head slowly.

"Teams are competitive but not vindictive. And we don't have money for much security so pretty much anyone with the proper credentials can get near the car. But it doesn't matter anymore. I'm gonna report this to the authorities and then withdraw from the race. It just isn't worth it. Would you mind if I stopped by the hospital to visit your boy? I'd really like to thank him for everything he's done and apologize for letting him get involved in this mess."

"I'm sure he'd like that," Mac grinned. "I'm headed back there now. Come anytime."

XXXXX

Later that evening, MacGyver, Joanna, and Ray Simmons sat around Sam's bedside chatting amicably. Pete and Connie had left shortly after Sam had been settled in a regular room leaving Mac and Jo with an open invitation to stay at their place as long as they needed. After a couple of hours of rest and sustenance in the form of clear broth and Jell-O, Sam gained enough strength to explain everything to his dad and was visibly distraught when Ray informed him the team was withdrawing from the race.

"But if we pull out now they win…whoever _they_ are!" he protested.

"It's just not worth the risk, son," Ray reasoned.

"How will we find out who's behind this if we stop now?" Sam argued.

"We may never find out," Mac said, "but getting someone hurt or killed isn't the way either."

"Besides," Ray added, "There's no way that car can be ready for qualifying tomorrow. This is all for the best."

For the next few minutes everyone grew silent, focused on their own thoughts. Then Mac noticed a grin begin to bloom on his son's face.

"Sam? What are you thinking?" he asked cautiously.

The young man looked at him and then at Ray.

"Yesterday I overheard the guys talking about a back-up car you have stashed away. If the crew pulls an all-nighter they should be able to get it ready to go!"

Ray considered Sam's suggestion. "Well, given the format of the race, all cars will start on Sunday. Tomorrow only determines position so as long as she can limp her way around the track we can get her set up for the race." Then he frowned. "But we're still without a driver…again."

"No problem! My dad can drive for you!" Sam announced excitedly.

MacGyver felt his eyes grow wide and his jaw go slack, but he couldn't form any coherent words to protest.

"Does he have any experience?" Ray asked warily.

By this point, Sam was almost jumping out of skin. "Yeah! Years ago he used to race Formula One. Stock cars are much more forgiving. It'd be a piece of cake for him!"

Mac felt everyone's eyes on him as he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

"He even ran a race for the Phoenix Foundation once," Sam added, pouring fuel on the already growing fire.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Ray replied after some thought. "It's just too dangerous. I can't ask your dad to take on our problems."

"But my dad _loves_ doin' this kind of stuff. Don't ya, Dad?"

MacGyver had to admit, if only to himself, that the thought of getting behind the wheel of a race car again did cause his adrenaline to surge. And he definitely wanted to catch whoever was behind the sabotage that injured Sam as well as Bobby Simmons. He rocked back on his heels and drew in a breath, wishing he wasn't going to say what he was going to say.

"What time should I be at the track?" he asked.

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Joanna rolled over and squinted at the digital clock sitting on the nightstand. Its glowing red numbers told her it was just past midnight. She sighed. With everything that had happened in the past twelve hours, her mind would not allow her to sleep, so she slipped out of Sam's bed, which Connie had insisted she use, and quietly made her way to the kitchen where she drew a glass of water from the tap. She sensed, more than heard, someone behind her and turned to find MacGyver shuffling her way.

"I tried not to wake you," she apologized.

"You didn't," he responded. "Somehow that couch isn't as comfortable as I remember," he complained as he took a carton of juice from the 'fridge and filled a glass. By unspoken agreement, they each took a seat at the table.

"Are you sure it's just the couch that's bothering you?"

Mac jammed his splayed fingers through his already-disheveled hair. "No," he admitted. "I guess I'm just worried about Sam."

"Sam's gonna be fine," Jo assured him.

"I know," he murmured before swallowing half a glass of juice in one gulp.

"Why didn't you tell me you used to drive race cars?" she asked quietly.

"It never came up," he replied with an impish grin.

"I get the feeling you've done a lot of things that have never come up," Jo countered lightheartedly.

"And you'd be right. But that was in a different lifetime."

"A 'lifetime' you miss?"

"You know I don't!"

"Just checkin'," Jo smiled.

"You're not upset about me driving, are you?"

"No!" she exclaimed. Shaking her head to reinforce her answer. "Actually, I'm really excited about it. I like auto racing and the chance to be in the pits and stuff is so cool!"

Mac tilted his head in that adorable way he had and gently gazed into her eyes until she became uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

"What?!"

"You've still got some surprises left in you as well," he observed and they both chuckled before allowing an easy silence to fall between them. It wasn't until after they had both finished their drinks that Mac spoke again.

"It occurred to me that I never even asked if you could come. You just came."

"You didn't give me much of a choice!" she teased.

MacGyver lowered his gaze, his expression and tone of voice now serious. "It really means a lot to me, having you here."

Joanna reached out and put her hand on his forearm that lay across the table.

"We're a team. Where else would I be?" she asked with a loving smile before it turned to a frown.

"Mac, do think someone…will something happen to the car tomorrow?"

MacGyver shook his head confidently. "No way! The crew will be working on it all night so it won't be accessible to anyone not affiliated with the team."

"But what if it's being sabotaged by someone _on_ the team?" she asked, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully.

"We don't have any evidence of that. Besides, what could a possible motive be? Why don't you shut that brain of yours off and go get some rest."

"Okay, but only if you do the same!" Jo challenged.

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The following morning Mac and Joanna arrived at the track just in time to watch the crew move the race car from the secure trailer to the pit box where they would make last minute adjustments before qualifying. They were welcomed with weary but friendly greetings and handshakes before someone tossed MacGyver a jumpsuit and helmet and ordered him to change.

"We've still got a couple hours," Ray Simmons said, approaching Mac. "Take her out and get a feel for the track and let us know if you need any modifications." MacGyver nodded and disappeared into the trailer.

Minutes later, he eased the car onto the track and settled into the ride. The machine felt solid and well-balanced. Lulled by the steady hum of the engine, his mind wandered back to the fatal accident that had marked the end of his racing career.

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault," he repeatedly whispered to himself, his hands clenching the steering wheel tight.

"What was that, Mac?" a voice crackled through the speakers in his helmet.

"Um, nothing. Everything's good," he radioed back, embarrassed that he forgot the crew was monitoring his radio transmissions. He thought he had rid himself of this particular demon after racing for Phoenix. He had thought wrong.

Satisfied with the set-up of the car, he slowly pressed down on the brake and guided it back into the pit box. Crew members swarmed around him as he climbed through the window, asking a variety of questions before turning their attention back to the machine and getting it ready for their qualifying run. MacGyver was looking around the small crowd for Joanna when he heard someone call to him.

"Excuse me! Are you the new driver?"

"Yeah. Name's MacGyver."

"I'm Stanley Reed. The vet your car is representing."

"Good to meet you, Stanley, and thanks for your service," Mac said as the two men shook hands.

"Ya know, you really don't have to do this. I'd hate to see someone else get hurt."

"It's not a problem," Mac assured him. "Besides, the decision's already been made and we're taking all necessary precautions. Everything's gonna be fine."

Seemingly mollified, Stanley bid MacGyver goodbye just as Joanna came to stand next to him.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked.

"Of course I do," Mac replied confidently. Like he had a choice! "We've changed the lock on the trailer and the crewmen are gonna take turns standing guard tonight. No one's gonna get near that car and cause any more problems."

Ninety minutes later, a voice boomed over the loudspeakers ordering all teams to report to pit road for the beginning of the qualifying session. The format was simple. Each car took to the track individually and ran one practice lap to get up to speed before running two qualifying laps. The faster of the two laps would determine its starting position on the grid for the race tomorrow.

MacGyver watched as the five cars in front of him laid down their times. Then it was his turn. The car felt really good…and really fast. Ray had warned him not to push it, but Mac couldn't quell his competitive side completely and opened up the engine a bit more than necessary, earning himself a spot on the inside of row two, bumping a few other cars back a notch. Then it was a waiting game. Once all fifteen cars had qualified, Team Reed was positioned on the outside of row four which was a very good starting point, especially given the circumstances. It would be a long night for the crews as they worked to get the cars ready to run the one hundred lap race tomorrow, but MacGyver's plans were simple: Visit Sam, eat a good supper, and go to bed early.

XXXXX

Race day dawned cloudy and cool. Just the way MacGyver liked it. The track and inside of the car would heat up quickly enough. He and Jo arrived at the racetrack and walked across the eerily silent infield hand-in-hand. In a couple of hours, spectators would crowd into the grandstand and the roar of engines would fill the air. But for now he would soak in the temporary peace and tranquility. Jo discreetly slipped away as Mac headed towards his crew. Despite their assurances that the car had been guarded all night and was ready to go, he insisted on doing his own inspection from front bumper to tail pipe. Finding nothing out of sorts, he grabbed his jumpsuit and headed for the trailer, catching Joanna's eye in the process. She smiled back encouragingly and his heart leapt. She was being a real trouper and once this was all over he promised to find a way to show her how grateful he was. Just thinking of a list of options brought a grin to his face as he prepared to go racing.

Time began to pass quickly and before he knew it he was suited up and standing next to his race car already placed on the starting grid. Connie and Pete had joined him and Joanna as they stood at attention for the National Anthem. After receiving last minute instructions from his pit crew, as well as a good luck kiss from Jo, he slid into the driver's seat and focused on the track ahead. Only a mile long oval. It would be a fairly quick one hundred lap race and he was thankful for his good starting position as he jammed on his helmet and hooked up his radio. He glanced at his pit and saw Joanna and Pete don headsets as well.

"See you all at the finish line!" he said into the mic and turned to see smiles and waves from his friends.

After a couple pace laps to bring the cars up to speed, the green flag waved and the race was on. MacGyver instinctively hit the accelerator and passed two cars before the first official lap was complete. His adrenaline was flowing and he was feeling confident. After all those years of driving the freeways of Los Angeles, this was a walk in the park! He deftly shifted and made a move to pass yet another opponent. After several more laps, a car behind him lost control and hit the wall, bringing out the yellow caution flag.

"Okay Mac, bring her in," Ray instructed.

On his next pass, MacGyver steered the car onto pit road, braking abruptly when he arrived at his pit box. Fuel was topped off and tires were changed and he was back on the track without losing a position. Once the debris from the accident was clear, the green flag waved and the remaining cars settled into a fast but friendly competition. With twelve laps left to go, Mac glanced at his telemetry and frowned. He was running low on fuel. He didn't want anyone to get in an accident, but he also didn't want to pit under green and lose the second place spot he was currently riding in. Half a lap later, the yellow flag flew. A car had blown an engine and was limping its way toward the infield.

"Okay Mac, let's top her off and win this thing!" Ray radioed.

"Roger that," MacGyver replied before loud static assaulted his ear drums.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, _Mac_!" an unfamiliar voice sneered over the radio.

"Who is this?!" Mac demanded.

"You don't need to worry about that right now. What you _do_ need to concern yourself with is the bomb I have wired to your accelerator. Any let up in pressure will cause the bomb to explode. So unless you want to kill hundreds of innocent bystanders, I suggest you keep driving."

"Why didn't it go off the first time I stopped?" Mac knew the only thing he could do for now was keep this mad man talking and glean as much information as possible.

"Because I hadn't activated it yet. You see, I thought the race should end with a bang!"

"Tell me who you are!" There was no way it could be who Mac thought it was. He was dead and buried and only existed in Mac's nightmares.

"My name's Walter Smythe, though I doubt that rings any bells. You're veteran hero got my son killed over in that sand box and now it's time to get revenge!"

More static, then silence.

"Ray? Pete? Did you guys get that?" Mac asked.

"We got it, Mac," came Pete's familiar voice. "What's your plan?"

"Plan?! What makes you think I have a plan?!"

"Relax kid," Ray instructed. "Just keep her steady."

MacGyver weaved and skidded around the track, much to his fellow drivers' dismay, but they had no idea what was going on. Mac had to maintain his speed or risk detonating the bomb. However, in doing so, he was eating up fuel. With no fuel, the car would stop and the bomb explode…with him in it.

"Okay. Listen up," Mac ordered, frantically making a mental list of his options of which there were few. "Get to Race Control. Tell them what's happening and have them stop the race and evacuate the stands and the infield."

"Consider it done," Pete replied. "Then what?"

"I'll let you know when I think of it."

Mac maintained radio silence as he concentrated on keeping appropriate pressure on the gas pedal. As he flew by the main grandstand he saw people being herded out of their seats. He couldn't do anything until he was sure there was no risk of collateral damage.

"What's happening, Mac?" Pete pleaded in his ear.

"The wall by turn four has a gate in it, right?"

"That's right." This time the voice belonged to Ray.

"And there's nothing but field beyond it, right?" Mac was practically yelling into the radio.

"Yeah, that's right," Ray concurred.

"Then that's where I'm gonna ditch the car. Get a safety crew out there and open it up!"

"But what about _you_ , Mac?" Joanna had now joined the conversation.

"I'm still workin' on that," he answered before becoming silent once more as he watched the needle of the gas gauge drop into the dangerous red zone. The track was now free of cars and as he roared around the oval he noted that the observation stands were empty as well. It was now or never, but first he had to make sure he wasn't in the car when it blew up.

With his left hand tightly gripping the steering wheel, he used his right hand to unlatch the fire extinguisher mounted next to the driver's seat. He slowly lowered it against his leg until it came to gently rest next to his foot on the accelerator. He took a deep, calming breath as he wedged the top of the canister against the edge of the seat.

"Mac?" Joanna called, her voice filled with trepidation. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't think you really want to know," he muttered.

"But you have a plan, right? I mean, one that's not gonna get you blown up?"

"Yep. That's the idea."

"Look, in case your plan doesn't work, I want you to know—"

"Not now, Jo!"

"But you need to know that I—"

"Don't say it! Not here, not like this."

He heard a sickening thud and then nothing.

"Mac, you okay?" Pete asked anxiously.

"Yeah, what just happened?"

"Um, Joanna, um…"

"Never mind. It's better if she doesn't see this anyway." He knew the sound he had heard was Jo's headset dropping to the ground. No doubt followed by her running out of the pit. Running away from this nightmare.

Putting Joanna out of his mind, he went back to work on the fire extinguisher, slowly pressing it against the gas pedal at the same time he eased his foot off. When he found himself and the car still in one piece he was fairly certain his plan would work, though probably not for long. As he guided the car into turn one, a light on the dash lit up, indicating a critically low fuel level. He gingerly removed his foot from the gas pedal and concentrated on steering.

"Okay everybody, this is it," he radioed as he approached turn four and aimed the car for the opening in the wall.

The terrain of the field was rutted and bumpy compared to the smoothness of the track. Mac glanced down, making sure the fire extinguisher wasn't moving…much. He knew when he let go of the wheel the rocking of the car would cause the extinguisher to shift and possibly fall. With only seconds to escape this death trap, MacGyver carefully lifted his body, holding onto the steering wheel until the last possible moment before pushing himself through the driver's window. He tucked himself into a ball and rolled as he hit the ground, the car continuing to speed away. The pick-up truck that served as one of the safety vehicles pulled up next to him and he scrambled into the bed and huddled against the back of the cab, ducking his head as the truck raced off in the opposite direction. He had only counted to three before he heard the explosion. Small pieces of flaming debris fell from the sky onto the truck and he was thankful for his helmet and fire suit. When he figured they were a safe distance away, he looked up to see the race car consumed by flames, pieces of it scattered across the meadow. He pulled off his helmet and let the warm air whip through his damp hair as he let out the breath he had been holding. That had been a close one. A little _too_ close.

Minutes later he jumped off the tailgate and approached Pete.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Mac, the authorities are waiting for you in the track office. They obviously have a lot of questions for you."

"Where is she, Pete!?" he demanded.

"Ray said she ran out to the parking lot. Connie followed," his friend replied.

As MacGyver jogged across the now-empty infield, he tried to prepare himself for what Joanna's reaction might be. Would she cry? Like any red-blooded American male, he hated to see a woman he cared about cry, especially when he was the cause. Would she run into his open arms for comfort or would she be spitting mad, glaring daggers, with fists ready to pummel his chest and any other body part that got in the way? It wasn't long until he discovered the answer, and he found himself stupefied. There she sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, staring straight ahead with seemingly unseeing eyes, her face void of all emotion. His gut clenched and his heartbeat skipped at the sight. He tore his gaze from Jo to find Connie several yards away gazing across the rural landscape.

"How is she?" he asked once he was standing next to the older woman.

Connie shrugged. "She's been like this ever since we got here. She winced once when we heard the explosion, but that's it."

"She must be in shock."

"She's not showing any physical signs, but I'm sure emotionally it's a different story. It's as if she just folded in on herself."

They walked toward the Jeep and the prone figure together, Connie hanging back as MacGyver drew close.

"Hey baby, everything's fine. I'm okay. It's all over." he assured her as he lifted her hand and held it in both of his. It was surprising warm and pliable, yet his touch yielded no effect. "C'mon Jo, talk to me," he pleaded.

Receiving no indication that she had even heard him, he gently place her hand back on her thigh and jammed his fingers through his hair.

"I gotta get back and give my statement about this whole mess," he told Connie. "It could be a very long afternoon."

"Don't worry about a thing," she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Stay as long as you need to. Pete and I will take Joanna home so she can rest and process everything that's happened. I'm sure she'll be back to her old self again in no time."

Mac smiled at the two women who had come to mean so much to him before turning and walking away.

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Joanna lay on top of the duvet, fully clothed, curled into the fetal position, staring at the closed bedroom door. Upon arriving home with Pete and Connie, she had called in sick to work for the next day and taken a long, hot shower after which she was treated to a hearty, home cooked meal. Not wanting to be rude, she engaged in idle conversation and helped clear the table and load the dishwasher before heading off to bed with the request not to be disturbed. Now, hours later, her mind replayed the moment when she first laid eyes on MacGyver after hearing that earthshattering explosion. Oh, how she had yearned to run into his arms and let him hold her forever. And then, when he had held her hand, it was all she could do not to hang on tight and not let go, but she forced herself to refuse those luxuries at least until she could understand her own behavior that afternoon. As the sun sank below the western horizon, she had finally figured out the words to say, but the only person who would ever hear them still hadn't come home.

Suddenly, as if her thoughts had conjured him, she heard the back door open and followed the sound of Mac's distinctive gait as he walked through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the living room where the Thornton's were watching television. She quickly slipped off the bed and padded to the door in her stocking feet to listen, not wanting to miss a word he said.

"How is she?" he asked, and Joanna just about melted. After everything that had happened, her welfare was still first and foremost in his mind?

"She went to bed right after dinner and asked not to be disturbed," Connie told him.

"Oh."

The pain and disappointment in that one syllable pierced her heart more deeply than any blade ever could and convinced her it was time to rejoin the land of the living and let him know she was okay. She opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hall, staying hidden in the shadows until the right moment came for her to reveal her presence.

"I didn't know how long you'd be, so I made a plate for you. I'll just go heat it up," Connie told MacGyver, no doubt trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction.

"Thanks, but I ate at the hospital when I went to visit Sam," Mac replied. "He managed to charm the nurse into smuggling in an extra supper tray."

Joanna suppressed a giggle.

"How is he doing?" Pete asked.

"Great! He's being released tomorrow. I told him I'd be there to pick him up." Even with his back to her, Jo could hear the smile in his voice.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Connie gushed as she gave Mac a hug.

Now was her chance to speak up and enter the conversation.

"Can I go along?" she asked softly, stepping into the well-lit room.

Mac turned toward her. "You bet," he replied with a surprised smile. He took a moment to study her. "I thought you wanted to be left alone tonight?"

She shrugged and then reached out gingerly, grasping his hand. "I did. But I got lonely," she explained with a smile of her own.

When silence fell, Pete cleared his throat and repositioned himself in his chair. "So Mac, wanna tell us what happened at the track today?"

"You still need to debrief?" MacGyver grinned, even though he knew his friend couldn't see it.

"What can I say, old habits die hard!"

Everyone laughed as Mac and Jo took a seat on the couch, still holding hands.

"It's kind of a long story but we ended up catching the guy." Mac said, "I'll give you the abridged version so I don't keep you up past your bedtime."

Pete huffed, Connie smiled playfully, and Jo squeezed his hand just a little tighter to let him know she was ready to hear whatever he had to say.

"Well," Mac sighed, "It's basically what Walter Smythe said when he hijacked our radio. His son, Bryan, was nineteen years old and serving under Stanley Reed when he was killed by enemy fire. Reed and several others were injured but survived. Mr. Smythe irrationally blamed Reed for his son's death and wanted vengeance."

"But that happened years ago? Why wait until now?" Joanna asked.

"He lost his job last year and then a month ago his wife passed away. That was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back and something in his mind snapped."

"Didn't he realize he could have killed hundreds of people with that bomb?" Connie asked, clearly upset.

Mac nodded. "That was the reason for the radio call. He assumed, and rightly so, that we would take appropriate action to prevent as much collateral damage as possible."

"But what about you!" Jo protested. "He doesn't even _know_ you but was ready to blow you apart!"

Mac turned to look at her with a sympathetic gaze. "In his mind, the driver of that car, whoever it may have been, was honoring the man who killed his son. You have to remember, he wasn't thinking straight."

Jo lowered her eyes and felt a stab of pity for the man.

"So how in the world did anybody catch him? No one even knew who he was!" Pete blustered, apparently annoyed that this detail had been left out.

"Security knew that he had to be at the facility in order to interrupt our radio transmission. During the evacuation, a guard found a man huddled underneath the bleachers with an electronic jamming device and binoculars. Apparently he was waiting to see the results of his handiwork."

"But how did he ever get near the car, much less rig it for all those accidents?" Joanna asked, her mind trying to make sense of it all.

MacGyver released her hand and scrubbed his face. "That's the clincher. He paid off Claude Chapman, a new crewmember on the team."

"Why would Claude ever agree to sabotage his own team?" she probed.

"Money can motivate people to do things you never imagined were possible," Pete replied sadly. "I've seen it enough over the years, so I can't say I'm surprised."

"What's gonna happen to them?" Jo asked.

"Currently they're both in custody. With my statement and plenty of witnesses, they won't be going anywhere for quite a while," Mac assured her.

A hush fell over the room until Connie slapped her hands on her thighs and looked toward Mac and Jo.

"Well, I'm just glad no one was injured and the bad guys got caught. Now I believe it's time for me and Pete to head off to bed. I'm sure you two have some things to discuss."

It looked as if her husband was about to protest when she grabbed his arm, but he allowed her to guide him from the room. Alone with MacGyver, Joanna suddenly felt anxious. Could she say what she needed to say? Would he understand? She opened her mouth to begin the conversation, but Mac beat her to it.

"I really owe you a big apology," he sighed gustily. "I knew this whole race thing could be dangerous. I shouldn't have let you get involved."

Her anxiety instantaneously turned to irritation. "First of all, I knew of the danger and I _chose_ to get involved, just like you. Secondly, I'm the one who needs to apologize to you!"

"No way!" Mac protested. "You've got nothin' to apologize for, and even if I didn't force you into this situation, I still cut you off when you tried to tell me that you—"

"I shouldn't have done that," Joanna said firmly, interrupting him. "It was so selfish on my part. You were doing everything you could to keep everyone safe and I just wanted to make myself feel better by making sure I wouldn't have any regrets if your cockamamie stunt didn't work out. And then I did what I once promised you I'd never do: I ran."

"Out of fear and anger. I get it," Mac said softly.

Joanna nodded. "But I _stayed_ away out of shame. I was a hypocrite, Mac!"

"What are you talking about?! You're weren't a—"

She held up a hand to shush him. "Yes, I was. And maybe still am."

Mac's face was a mask of confusion.

Taking a deep breath, she delved into her explanation. "When you and I were first getting to know each other, I couldn't understand why women who supposedly cared about you were scared off by your job. I understood it was dangerous at times, but in my eyes that was all the more reason for them to want to be with you as much as possible, not run the other way! And today I did the exact same thing! When you needed me to be calm and supportive, I ran away from you instead!

"Listen," Mac commanded, turning sideways on the couch and placing his hands firmly on Joanna's shoulders, turning her towards him. "What happened today was tough on everybody. I figured you had run when I heard your headphones drop. At least, I _hoped_ you had run because then I didn't have to worry about you getting hurt. But I'll admit, you had me scared when you wouldn't talk to me afterward."

"Scared of what?" Jo asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Scared of losing you," he replied hoarsely, as if the words clogged his throat. He then shook his head and chuckled. "Do you think we'll ever get this 'committed relationship' thing figured out?"

She thought her eyes couldn't grow any wider, but they did. "Is that what this is?" she asked tentatively, as if saying it out loud would make it disappear.

He raised one hand from her shoulder to cup her cheek and her breath hitched.

"Considering that I fell for you the first time I saw you, have grown to love you more every day since, almost proposed to you, and have no desire to even look at another woman, I'd have to say yes."

Tears welled in her eyes as she reached out to touch his face. "The day I met you my world turned upside down. I tried so hard not to love you but failed miserably. You are such a special man and I can't imagine my life without you."

"Then don't," he whispered huskily, "Because I'm not planning on going anywhere. You're my home, Joanna. I love you."

With one hand still caressing her cheek, she felt his other hand reach up and cradle the back of her head, gently urging her closer until their lips met in an all-consuming kiss. Oblivious to the world around them, they didn't see Connie peek around the corner, hand over her mouth and eyes glistening happily.

"Oh Peter, did you hear that? They finally admitted they're in love with each other!" she whispered excitedly.

"I could've told you, _and them_ , that two years ago," he grumbled.

Connie shot him a chastising look she knew he couldn't see before saying, "Let's go back to bed, dear, and leave the two love birds alone."

"It's about time," came the surly reply.

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Sam paced back and forth in his hospital room, glancing impatiently at his watch. The doctor had signed his discharge papers and he had called his dad for a ride thirty minutes ago. What was taking so long? As he waited, he recalled MacGyver's visit from the night before. At Sam's insistence, his dad had relayed every detail of the day's events. While he was glad no one had been hurt, he was disappointed he had missed all the excitement. The reporter in him just couldn't help it! He was about to turn and take another lap when the large door swung open and Joanna walked through, followed by his dad.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but traffic was brutal," Mac said.

"Traffic is always brutal here," Sam replied wryly before hugging his dad and then Joanna. "I was hoping you would have come last night," he told her.

"I'm sorry, but there were some things I had to take care of," she replied cryptically.

Sam watched as Jo looked to his dad. He literally felt the air in the room change as their gazes locked and they shared a loving smile. Oh, wow! Something big had happened between them and he had missed that, too! He'd have to pump the Thornton's for information as soon as he could.

The ride from the hospital went smoothly, at least by Chicago standards, and when the trio entered the house they were greeted by the scrumptious aroma of Connie's cooking. After indulging in a leisurely lunch, Mac announced it was time for him and Joanna to head back to Milwaukee.

"We'd stay longer, but it looks like you're in good hands," he commented to Sam before Connie embraced the two men.

Jo stepped forward to give Sam one last hug as Mac retrieved their suitcases.

"Now be sure to take it easy and follow the doctor's orders," Joanna instructed. "If you're anything like your dad poor Connie has her work cut out for her, but you don't want to end up back in the hospital. And remember, Mac and I are just a phone call away."

"Yes, _Mom_ ," he promised with a playful eye-roll, secretly enjoying her attention.

Connie, Pete and Sam followed MacGyver and Joanna outside where the couple climbed in the Jeep and waved farewell as they pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the quiet street. As soon as the car was out of sight, Sam rounded on the older couple.

"Okay, tell me everything! I know something happened between my dad and Jo. Something good. Did they get engaged? Oh! They didn't sneak off and get married without me, did they?!"

Connie smiled indulgently. "It was so sweet, Sam. They finally confessed their love for each other."

"That's it?" Sam frowned. "They just told each other they love them?"

"That's it," Pete confirmed.

"Aw, man! I could've told 'em that a long time ago!"


	18. What's in a Name?

**What's in a Name?**

Joanna leaned back in her soft leather office chair, staring unseeingly at her computer screen. It was almost noon on Tuesday. She and MacGyver had arrived home from Chicago the night before and, while she should be walking on air now that Mac had told her in no uncertain terms that he had fallen in love with her, she was dead on her feet as the events of the weekend caught up with her and the fallout at work began. She had come into the office to find a stack of files on her desk, all supposedly requiring her immediate attention, but they had to wait until her boss called her into his office to chastise her for taking off on the day the firm landed one of its biggest accounts. How was she to know that would happen?! To top it off, Mac had called to ask her to lunch and she had turned him down. She hated to, but it was necessary because if she walked out of the office right now there was a good chance she may never return. A sharp knock on her office door interrupted her reverie.

"Who is it?" she called.

"That man of yours!" a very familiar masculine voice replied.

Good grief! Joanna covered her face with her hands before mumbling, "Come in."

She was met with a chuckling MacGyver.

"You've been talking with Geena, haven't you?" she moaned.

"Hey, she's my favorite receptionist around here! Calls 'em like she sees 'em!" he said as she peeked through her fingers and melted at the warm smile he gave her.

"Anyway, since you couldn't come to lunch I figured I'd bring lunch to you."

He held two brown bags from their favorite deli and handed her one. She opened it up and inspected the contents.

"Alfalfa sprout sandwich and yogurt? I think this one is yours," she said, crinkling up her nose and handing it back to him while he handed her the one containing a turkey club and a bag of chips.

"Sorry about that," he said with a mischievous grin indicating he wasn't sorry at all and that, in fact, he probably mixed them up on purpose. "So, why'd you try to bail on me today?"

"I really didn't want to but I've had a tough morning," she explained.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," she sighed, but continued anyway. "I came into a load of paperwork and then got reamed out by Hernandez for taking time off."

"But you had that time coming!" Mac's voice rose. "He can't dictate how you use it!"

Joanna gave a sad laugh. "You know, a couple of years ago I would have been so mortified about getting yelled at that I would have run and cried in the ladies room. But now, I just can't seem to care. There are other, more important things in my life and I refuse to let my job get in the way."

"Am I one of those 'things'?" he asked with a crooked grin that made her heart beat faster.

"You know you are!" she chided. "Now, cheer me up by telling me how things are going at Challengers."

"It's actually going a lot smoother than I expected now that we're open twenty-four hours a day. Of course, most kids are still in school for the next couple weeks," Mac answered around a mouthful of sprouts before swallowing.

Joanna frowned. "I wish I could help you out more."

"Hey, you're there every day after work to tutor, that helps out more than you know."

She then watched as he eyed the stack of folders on her desk.

"Of course, if you can't make it tonight everyone will understand."

"Are you kidding?! Looking forward to working with the kids is the only thing that keeps me sane!"

"The _only_ thing?" Mac asked huskily.

"You know what I mean," she replied in a clipped tone signaling the end of the conversation.

MacGyver suppressed a grin as he stole a peek at his watch.

"I better get back," he informed her. "Cynthia wants to take some time off to go shopping and after she covered for me all weekend I owe her big time."

"I'll say," Jo agreed. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"You sure you don't just want to go home and rest up?" he asked, his concern for her evident.

"I'm positive," she said, smiling up at him.

He leaned over and wiped a glob of mayo from her lips with the pad of his thumb before kissing her gently. "Later," he whispered, disappearing through the door before she had time to respond.

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MacGyver spent the remainder of the afternoon alternately looking at the clock and watching the front door to the club. He couldn't wait to see Joanna again. Something fundamental had shifted in him the other night on the Thornton's couch when he had finally told her that he loved her. Finally said the words aloud, face-to-face, making it all very real. Interestingly, the sense of uneasiness he had anticipated never came. Instead, he felt a steadying calmness. A feeling that, for once, everything in his life was coming together. It hadn't been that long ago that he had been, for all intents and purposes, alone in the world. Then Sam had found him and now he had found Joanna. Could they eventually become the family he was yearning for?

The sound of high-pitched voices coming from the recreation area broke into his thoughts. He went to stand in his office doorway, watching as the club members talked amongst themselves and chose various activities to participate in. He smiled as the teens and adolescents respectfully played and worked together regardless of age or skin color. That peace was suddenly shattered when a mob of teens, with Joanna's head bobbing in the center, barreled their way through the front door, all talking at once, some waving hands and arms in exasperation.

"Okay guys," she commanded. "Take a seat at the big table and I'll join you in a minute. We'll get this all worked out."

"What's going on?" Mac asked, taking Jo by the elbow and guiding her away from the chaos.

"I don't have a clue. I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but I think it has something to do with not passing into the next grade level."

MacGyver looked at the group, now seated quietly around a large, wooden dining table that served a variety of purposes. He recognized them as freshman from a nearby high school.

"Want me to talk to them?" he asked.

"No. I've got this. I just needed a minute to catch my breath. They were waiting for me when I pulled in."

Mac frowned. "They know better than to accost an adult. Or anyone, for that matter."

He started to walk toward them when Jo put a hand on his arm, causing him to stop and enjoy the tingling sensation he should not be so incredibly aware of at this moment.

"Relax," she laughed lightly. "I said I've got this. They're just upset. Everything's fine...really!"

MacGyver hesitated for a minute before allowing his muscles to relax and his jaw to unclench. He had gone into super-protective mode in one point two seconds and he knew that would never do. Not with Joanna.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"No problem," she smirked. "Just don't let it happen again." She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before she dropped her hand and headed into the teenage fray.

His concern put to rest, curiosity was now front and center in his brain. He trailed Jo to the small group and stood off to the side as he listened in on the conversation.

"It's not fair! She can't make us do anything!"

"Hold on, Jessica. Who can't make you do what?" Joanna asked calmly.

"The vice principal said we won't pass ninth grade unless we do an extra credit assignment for Sociology," Sergio explained.

"At least she's giving you a chance to redeem yourselves. She could just let you fail,"

Jo reasoned, much to the students' dismay.

"When you put it like that it doesn't sound so bad," a girl named Jordan muttered as the others nodded their heads.

"All right. So what's the assignment and when is it due?" Jo asked, her eyes twinkling with the challenge.

This time it was Michael who spoke up. "We have to write up and give a presentation about our name. You know, its origin, what it means, if we like it or not. That sort of thing. But it's due this Friday."

"That sounds doable," Jo responded confidently. "I'll get some books and tomorrow you can come and do the research. On Thursday, we can get everybody here to listen while you practice your presentation. Then you'll be all set for Friday!"

The students let go a collective sigh and MacGyver was astounded at how easily Joanna had not only diffused the situation, but gotten a plan of attack together so quickly.

"That was great!" he commended her once the teens had scattered.

"Thanks!" she replied. "So then you won't mind if I leave early and hit the library before it closes?"

"Go for it!"

XXXXX

The following afternoon, MacGyver held open the front door to Challengers as Joanna carried in a tote bag full of books.

"Here, let me help you with those," he said, reaching out to take the bag.

"Thanks," she replied airily as she stepped past him and handed over the tote which was a lot heavier than it looked.

Mac followed her to the large table they had used the day before and started spreading out the books. Some were geared towards soon-to-be parents offering popular baby names while others were more reference-type books with historical information. They had just finished putting out some paper and pencils when the students arrived, smiling and happily chatting with one another. A much different scene than yesterday!

"Okay everybody!" MacGyver called above the din of voices. "Those of you who need to do the extra credit assignment need to come over to the table. Ms. Jo brought in a bunch of resources for you so let's get started!"

To his surprise, the eight students eagerly headed his way and were soon paging through the various books and commenting loudly.

"Man, dig _this_ name!"

"I'd hate to be called _that_!"

"If I have a girl, I'm naming her _this_!"

"Okay guys, listen up!" Jo said, her voice an octave lower demanding their attention. "You're supposed to be looking up your _own_ name. Got it?"

Their excitement turned to mumbles and hesitant head nods, but soon they settled around the table, reading the books and making notes on the paper while the adults monitored their progress and helped out when needed.

"Hey! I got an idea!" Michael said a few minutes into the project. "We should have Ms. Jo, Ms. Cynthia, and Mr. Mac do this assignment too!"

His classmates eagerly agreed as Mac's stomach dropped to his toes. Only his family and a few close friends knew his first name and they rarely, if ever, actually used it since they knew how much he hated it. He was not about to divulge it to a bunch of blabber-mouth teenagers!

"Count me in," Joanna told them. "And I'm sure Cynthia would love to participate as well."

"What about MacGyver?" Sergio asked. "We don't even _know_ his first name!"

"Mr. Mac has a lot of work to do," Jo replied, coming to his rescue. "Ms. Cynthia and I will just have to do."

She glanced up at Mac and surreptitiously pointed her chin in the direction of his office and he took the hint.

"Ms. Jo's right," he said. "In fact, I need to get back to my office now." He turned and walked away, thankful for the 'out' Joanna had provided him.

Hours later, when the last member had left, Mac and Jo went about their nightly routine locking up windows and doors and doing general clean-up of the rec area before heading home. Joanna suddenly paused and stood regarding him thoughtfully.

"What?" he asked.

"Look Mac, I know how much you hate your name, but did you ever research it, find out what it means? It might change your mind."

He sighed. "Several years ago I had my family tree traced and studied its origin."

"That was your last name. Did you ever learn about your first name?"

"There are some things that need to be left alone, and that's one of 'em!" he snapped but Jo wasn't deterred.

"Did you ever think that maybe your name has a really great meaning or story behind it? I mean, your folks chose it for a reason, right?"

"It's an old family name that I wish they would have kept in the past. It's not up for discussion."

"Fine," Jo shrugged. "Have it your way." She tossed out the trash she had collected, gave him a peck on the cheek and slipped out the door.

A shiver ran down Mac's spine. That had been too easy.

XXXXX

 _It was five-year-old MacGyver's first day of Kindergarten. His mom and dad walked him to his classroom door where he was greeted by his teacher._

" _Hello, Angus, it's good to meet you." She held out her hand for him to shake._

 _First wincing then frowning at the use of his given name, he reluctantly but politely shook her hand as his parents had taught him._

" _What do you say, son?" his dad prompted._

" _It's nice to meet you, too," Mac muttered._

 _His new teacher led him to a large piece of carpet which would later be referred to as 'the reading rug'. Girls knelt primly on one side while boys sat cross legged on the other. A little blonde girl offered him a shy wave which he returned before taking his place with the guys. The bell rang and signaled the start of the worst day of MacGyver's life thus far._

 _Instead of taking tradition roll call the teacher asked each student to stand and introduce themselves. When it was his turn, he stood up and proudly stated, "Name's MacGyver," before quickly sitting down again._

" _Thank you, Mr. MacGyver," the teacher responded. "But in my classroom we address each other by our first names. Could you please share your first name with your fellow students?"_

 _Mac slowly stood up again, the collar of his brand new shirt suddenly feeling stiff and tight. "Angus," he muttered softly as the other boys and girls began to giggle and snicker. He felt his cheeks grow warm and he wanted to run out the door, but took his seat instead._

 _The second time the bell rang it was to signal the beginning of recess. He eagerly made his way to the door along with the rest of his classmates. Once on the playground, Mac approached a small group of boys who had a basketball._

" _Can I play with you?" Mac asked hesitantly._

" _Hey everybody! It's_ Angus!" _the boy holding the ball announced in a teasing taunt._

" _Why'd your folks name you after a_ cow?" _another jested._

 _Before MacGyver could say or do anything, a third boy pushed him roughly to the ground as the others gathered around, looking down at him and chanting his name. All he could hear was "Angus! Angus! Angus!"_

Mac bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. His hair was damp and sweat trickled down his bare back. Man, he hadn't had that dream since he was a kid! All this talk about his name had to end.

MacGyver arrived at Challengers earlier than usual the next day. As a result of his childhood nightmare, sleep had been out of the question. With Cynthia not due in for a few more hours, Mac grabbed some of the name books Joanna had brought the day before and locked himself in his office to do a little research. He actually had his doubts about whether or not a name like his would make publication, but he soon located it and began jotting down the information he found and, much to his surprise, it made him smile.

Later that day the after-school crowd began to pour in and along with them were Joanna and the eight students she had been working with. Mac and some of the older boys were put in charge of setting up folding chairs in rows to mimic a classroom setting. Room was left at the front where each presenter would stand. When most of the club members had arrived and filled the seats, Joanna stepped to the front and began explaining about the presentations. Mac took a seat in the back and watched as she orchestrated the event. The glow of her cheeks and the spark of fire in her eyes were testament to how much she loved working with and educating the youth in the community.

"To get things rolling," Jo began, "Ms. Cynthia and I are going to share what we learned about our own names, and then we will listen to your fellow club members. Please remember to be respectful and listen carefully as they put a lot of effort into their presentations.

"As many of you know, my first name is Joanna. I was named after my maternal great-grandmother, Johanna. Both our names derive from the Hebrew and Greek term meaning 'God is gracious'. According to the reference books, people named 'Joanna' are confident, ambitious, independent and self-sufficient. We also don't like taking orders." She winked playfully after that last sentence and Mac's heart flipped.

As Jo quietly took a seat, Cynthia took her place in front of the teens and began her presentation.

"My name is Greek for 'From Mount Cynthus'." This statement was met with muffled giggles from the audience. "My name means I'm independent, practical, decisive, capable, efficient, and appreciate art and music."

Wow, that described her perfectly, Mac thought as the students applauded and Cynthia was replaced by Michael.

"First of all, I hate my name," the boy began earnestly. "It's so common! There are guys named Michael everywhere I go! But after learning about it, I can see why folks would want to name their kid that. Ya see, it's Hebrew for 'Who is like God' and really, who wouldn't want to be like God?!" This received a hearty laugh. "Anyway, according to the books, I'm clever, responsible, self-confident, and I care about my family and friends so I figure that makes me a pretty awesome dude!" Michael shot his classmates a huge smile as everyone clapped happily. The next presenter was Jessica, who had been the first student to complain about the assignment.

"Just like Michael, I hate my name too. People often call me 'Jessie' and I don't mind, but then a lot of kids tease me, calling me 'Jessie's Girl' from that old '80's song. Jessica is Hebrew and means 'to see before'. The qualities I possess are courage, honesty, determination and creativity. I'm also outgoing and like to talk with people. All my teachers get on my back about that, but now I have scientific proof to show them why I do it!"

Joanna turned, caught Mac's gaze and did an exaggerated eye roll before Sergio took his turn.

"I always thought my name was pretty cool. You know, really slick and attractive to the ladies. Now, thanks to this dumb assignment, I find out it's Italian for 'servant', and I ain't nobody's slave!"

"Sergio…" Mac heard Joanna warn from her seat.

"Um, sorry about that, Ms. Jo. Okay, my name also means I'm friendly, sociable, charming, and give good advice. Heck, I could be the next 'Dear Abby'!"

Joanna cleared her throat loudly and Mac tried not to laugh.

"But anyway, I also don't like to be told what to do and I never change my mind once it's made up, which is true. So I guess my name's really not so bad after all."

Everyone applauded and Mac watched Jo's shoulders visibly relax. Sergio was apparently her most challenging student in the club. Next, a diminutive girl with glasses moved to the front.

"My name's Jordan and I don't like it because it's usually a boy's name. I think my parents just picked a name they could use either way. And this year I took a world geography class and kids started calling me 'Jordan River'. But anyway, my name is Hebrew for 'one who descends'. I'm gracious, capable, and clever, but I'm also a private person and I like to read and stuff but don't like to do spontaneous things so I guess that sums me up pretty good."

Every clapped as she took her seat and the next student began their presentation. As MacGyver listened to their reports, he was amazed at what Joanna had helped them accomplish in so little time. He was also learning a lot about some of his club members and looked forward to spending more time with them.

When the final student finished, they all huddled around Joanna and exchanged hugs and high-fives.

"Now do it like that in school tomorrow and make me proud, okay?!" she encouraged.

It seemed like forever until Jo was once again standing by herself. MacGyver walked up beside her and gently placed an arm around her shoulders.

"You've done good, teach!"

She leaned into him and smiled. "I didn't do much, just provided the tools, the rest was all them."

"And you loved every second of it."

Jo nodded before turning, burying her head in his chest, and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I miss teaching, Mac. I miss it so much."

"I know you do, baby. I know," he crooned as he stroked her hair and let her silent tears dampen the front of his shirt.

XXXXX

Friday afternoon found Joanna pacing back and forth in the rec room waiting to hear how her students' presentations went.

"Ya know, I just waxed that floor and now you're wearing it all off," Mac quipped, earning him a slit-eyed scowl.

"Cynthia, can you please come and tell Jo that the kids did great and she needs to stop worrying?" he called across the room.

"Nope!" Cynthia called back. "She said it herself, 'Joanna's' don't like taking orders!"

MacGyver threw up his hands and walked away, hoping to find something that needed fixing. The truth was, he was probably just as anxious as Jo was to hear the results.

At long last, the doors to Challengers flew open and Jo's eight students scrambled in.

"We did it, Ms. Jo! We did it! We're all gonna be sophomores!" Jessica exclaimed as the others quickly gathered around her for a celebration session.

Mac couldn't suppress his own smile and the tinkling of Joanna's laughter only made his smile grow. He was so engrossed in watching the happy group that he didn't notice the appearance of a petite, middle-aged woman until he heard Cynthia greet her.

"Hello, I'm looking for Joanna Fairfax," the woman stated. Dressed in a grey skirt suit with a white blouse buttoned up to her neck, Mac assumed the woman had come from the law firm.

"I'll go see if I can pry her away from her adoring public," he told Cynthia and the woman as he reluctantly went to interrupt the happy group.

Joanna was laughing and putting her hands up in a "time out" gesture as she addressed the teens that surrounded her.

"All right, that's enough!" she huffed. "Why don't you take your teenage energy and go do something productive with it?!"

After a final round of thanks and congratulations, the kids began to disperse allowing Joanna to see MacGyver making his way towards her. She smiled automatically at him, but when it was not returned she wrinkled her brow in concern.

"There's someone her to see you," he said flatly, indicating a woman in a grey suit.

"Who is she?"

"You don't know?" Mac asked. "I assumed she was from the firm."

Jo shook her head. "I've never seen her before."

She slowly approached the stranger as MacGyver followed just steps behind. Who was this woman and what did she want?

Cynthia smiled and made the introductions. "Joanna, this is Mrs. Elizabeth Varga, vice principal at Lincoln High where several of the Challengers members attend."

As the two women shook hands, Mrs. Varga's stern face brightened. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Some of our students have told me a lot about you."

"All good, I hope," Joanna laughed.

"Absolutely. And that's why I'm here," Mrs. Varga said, looking around the large room. "Is there some place where we could speak in private?"

Jo glanced at MacGyver. "You can use my office," he told the two women.

They smiled their thanks and walked away.

Now it was Mac's turn to pace the floor. He'd re-wax it tomorrow if he had to. Twenty minutes later his office door opened and Mrs. Varga was the first to emerge. Both women had a smile on their face as she turned and shook Jo's hand.

"I look forward to hearing from you next week and don't worry, I can see myself out," Mac heard the older woman say before heading to the exit. He looked at Jo who still stood in the doorway, a stunned look on her face, and hurried to her side.

"What was that all about?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly before looking up at him with her liquid brown eyes. "She just offered me a job." Her voice was monotone, as if she couldn't believe what she was saying.

"Congratulations! That's a good thing, right?"

"I'm not sure," she replied flatly.

"Care to explain?"

She shook her head. "Not yet, Mac. I need to work some things out in my head first."

"No problem," he smiled softly. "I'm gonna head out soon. Why don't you come over for dinner tonight."

"I'd like that," she said quietly.

XXXXX

Joanna picked at the piece of eggplant parmesan in front of her. She had only taken two bites while MacGyver was already on his third helping. Frog sat at her feet, watching her expectantly.

"When did you turn him into a vegetarian?" she asked.

"When he started begging for table scraps."

"No more chicken livers?"

"Only on special occasions," Mac grinned wryly. "So, feel like talkin' about that job offer?"

Jo pushed her plate away and sighed. "Mrs. Varga wants to hire me to teach Freshman English this fall."

"I thought you didn't want to teach in a traditional school environment."

"That's just it! Lincoln High is a charter school, meaning they don't have to adhere to the strict policies of the public school system. The administration, teachers, and even students have a lot more flexibility. Mrs. Varga said that most teachers even get all their lesson plans and grading done during the school day so they don't have to do it at home."

"That sounds perfect for you! And you did say you missed teaching."

"It is, and I do, but unfortunately the position is only part-time," she sighed.

"So?"

From the look on her face you would have thought he had just asked her to swim across Lake Michigan.

"So," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Even if this was a full-time position I would still be taking a significant pay cut and losing benefits."

"So this is all about money to you," Mac stated scornfully. After all the time they had spent together, she had never once appeared materialistic. If anything, he had admired her frugality. Had he misjudged her so completely or was she playing him for a fool after he had given her his heart.

"Yes! No!" she huffed. "Look, no one goes into teaching for the money. I've always been smart financially, but when I got laid off a few years back it was a real wake-up call for me. Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about how I was going to pay rent or feed myself, but it was still an eye-opening experience."

"I get that," MacGyver replied, ashamed of his initial reaction. "But would you really rather stay at a job you never did like in the first place just for the money? I see how your eyes light up when you're with the kids at Challengers. _That's_ what you were meant to do!"

"That's why this is so hard on me, Mac. I really want the teaching job, but it's scary to give up the financial stability I may need one day."

They sat in heavy silence with their own thoughts for several minutes until Mac began to form an idea.

"You've put in a lot of volunteer hours at Challengers, and I really appreciate that, but maybe it's time I-"

"No way!" she cut him off. "You are _not_ going to pay me like some employee!"

"That's not what I had in mind!" he shot back. "If you recall, you loaned me the money to start up the club in the first place and I haven't paid you back one cent."

"And this is helpful how?"

"Technically, we're business partners, and you should be getting your share of our revenue."

"I didn't know you even _had_ revenue? Besides, you should be putting it back into the club"

"We've gotten a few large donations and so far that's exactly what I've been doing, but I would much rather have the money go to a compassionate, competent 'partner' rather than a can of fresh paint. Besides, Cynthia's been dropping hints that she'd like to cut back on her hours. I think she forgot how challenging working at Challengers can be," he grinned. "We could really use you around there, especially with summer here."

"So let me get this straight. You're suggesting I quit the law firm, spend the summer hanging out at Challengers and then start teaching in the fall?"

Her answer came in the form of the sly, crooked smile that always made her stomach squishy. In short, the one she couldn't say 'no' to.

"All right, I'll call Mrs. Varga first thing Monday morning."

Mac's smile faded and he stared at her suspiciously.

"What?!"

"That was way too easy," he confessed.

"Maybe you're just way too persuasive," she responded coyly.

"Maybe you know this is the right thing to do."

"Touche," she replied, pulling her plate closer, suddenly ravenous.

"I have a surprise for you," MacGyver announced as Joanna curled up in the corner of his couch after dinner.

"Oh, really?" she asked, bending over to help Frog up on the couch before cuddling him against her chest.

"Yes, really," he countered as he pulled some note cards out of the back pocket of his jeans. "While you were working with the kids on their extra credit assignment, I took your advice and did a little research of my own."

Her jaw slackened and she slowly shook her head. "Oh Mac, you don't have to…"

"I want to. I want you to listen to my presentation."

Joanna leaned further back into the cushions as MacGyver cleared his throat and began.

"My name is Angus. I've hated it for as long as I can remember. Growing up in a small town in Minnesota doesn't exactly lend itself to the acceptance of unusual names. Especially names of cattle breeds. My first day of kindergarten I remember the other kids jeering and chanting my name until I cried. I begged everyone to call me something else, _anything else_ , but 'Angus'. Finally, my grandpa Harry took pity on me and started calling me 'Bud'. Eventually, I convinced people to call me by my last name or simply 'Mac'. A few days ago, a woman who has my absolute love and respect challenged me to take a deeper look at the name I've despised and hid from for most of my life."

Here he paused and caught her eyes in a gaze that she swore would melt all her internal organs.

"My name's origin is Irish and Scottish Gaelic. It is interpreted as 'one choice', 'one strength', 'chosen one', 'unique strength', and 'exceptionally strong'. In Irish myth, my name means 'god of love and youth and beauty'. My name also represents a Celtic god who helped his people with his wisdom and intelligence. It's humbling to learn my name is defined by words such as 'strength', 'chosen', 'love', and 'wisdom' because I've always considered myself a pretty ordinary guy, but maybe my folks knew something I haven't figured out yet. Or, as Michael would say, 'I'm a pretty awesome dude!'"

Joanna laughed and clapped as MacGyver concluded his presentation and flopped down on the couch next to her, reaching out to fondle Frog's ears.

"So what do you think?" he asked. "Did I pass?"

"With flying colors!" she assured him. "So, what do you think of your name now?"

"Let's just say I won't be asking people to start calling me 'Angus' anytime soon! I appreciate the meaning behind it, and I'm glad you encouraged me to learn about it, but I think I still prefer 'Mac' if that's okay with you."

"I suppose I can live with it," she replied playfully, leaning in to kiss him, causing Frog to whine as he became squished between his two humans.

 **A/N:** ** _For those of you reading this in "real time", my weekly chapter postings are going on hiatus as of today (June 3, 2018). BUT THEY WILL RETURN! Work and summer activity demands have sorely slowed down my writing. I have 2 chapters waiting in the wings and ideas for 2 more that simply need time and energy to come to life! When I post next depends on my progress, so keep an eye out! I do promise that when I decide to end the story, I will write a proper and hopefully satisfying conclusion...however, I hope I won't have to do that for a long time! Thank you for your loyal readership and reviews! Mac and Jo shall return! In the meantime, always feel free to PM me and if you have any plot ideas I'd love to hear them!_**


	19. The Innocent

**The Innocent**

The June sunlight poured through the plate-glass window, creating an ethereal glow around Joanna who was busily packing her meager personal belongings into the oversized box MacGyver had brought her. In the waning minutes of her employment at the law firm, she chatted easily with Mike Harlow, Lee Vang, and Geena the Receptionist who had gathered around her now-empty desk to share their farewells and good wishes as Mac casually leaned against the door jamb taking in the scene.

"It's been great working with you, Jo," Mike said. "If you ever get bored you can come on back and help me catch up on the data entry I never get around to doing."

"Thanks for the invitation, Mike, but I think the kids will keep me pretty busy both at Challengers as well as the high school," she laughed and Mike pretended to pout before giving her a peck on the cheek and heading out the door, stopping to shake MacGyver's hand.

"You got a good one there," Mike told him. "Be sure to treat her right."

"Count on it," Mac replied with a smile.

Lee Vang was the next to speak.

"You'll be missed around here," he told her. "And remember, if you ever need legal counsel, I'm just a phone call away and more than happy to do pro bono work for families in the community."

"Thanks, Lee. That means a lot to me, and Mac as well." She gave him a brief hug before he, too, headed to the door, shook MacGyver's hand and walked back to his office.

That left Geena.

"Oh, girl, this place won't be the same without you," she lamented as she embraced Joanna and squeezed her tight.

"I'm gonna miss you, too," Jo replied, "but you know where Challengers is and we're always looking for volunteers."

"I may just have to check that place out one of these days," Geena agreed. "Now I expect to be the first to know when that man of yours over there finally pops the question. Even if I'm dead in my grave!"

Joanna's easy laugh made MacGyver's heart soar.

"I can't promise you'll be the first, but you'll definitely be in the top five!" she responded.

Hmmm. Jo really believed they were on the road to something permanent, and for the first time he could remember that excited him instead of tempting him to turn and run the other way. The phone in the lobby rang and Geena gave Joanna one last hug before hurrying off to answer it. Finally it was just the two of them.

"Any regrets?" Mac asked as he walked further into the room, hands jammed in the front pockets of his khaki pants.

"None," Jo beamed up at him. "Thank you for encouraging me to do this. I think you're starting to know me better than I know myself!"

MacGyver grinned as he glanced around the room.

"I thought Hernandez would come by to see you," he commented.

"I saw him earlier today. Wished me well and offered to be a reference," Jo said in a clipped tone.

Mac knew there was not much love lost between Joanna and her boss, hence her willingness to leave her current position. Before he could reply, Jo's desk phone trilled and she frowned, no doubt wondering who would be calling just as she was preparing to leave...for good.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey Cynthia, what's up?"

There was an uncomfortable silence while Joanna listened intently before her gaze caught MacGyver's and conveyed a sense of urgent concern bordering on panic.

"We're on our way," she said firmly before hanging up.

Mac scooped up the box that Joanna had packed and followed her out of the office and down the hall before speaking.

"What's up?" he asked as they pushed through the main doors and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Jo shook her head and kept walking. "It was hard to make everything out because of the background noise, but it has something to do with the Talbot kids. Cynthia said the police and someone from social services are there for them."

"What?!"

"That's all I could understand," Joanna shrugged helplessly.

With lengthened strides they quickly arrived at their respective vehicles. Mac stowed the box he was carrying in the back of the Jeep and peeled out of the parking lot with Jo close behind. Davey and Suzy held a special place in his heart. Especially Suzy whom he had escorted to the Daddy/Daughter dance at her school and who insisted on calling him 'Daddy Mac'. His stomach roiled at the thought of anything bad happening to those two kids.

Upon arriving at Challengers, MacGyver barreled through the front door stopping only long enough to survey the recreation room. All the teens were actively engaged in various activities, unfazed by any disruption the yet unknown situation may have caused. The only sign that something was wrong was little Suzy, with her brown bobbed hair so like Joanna's, sitting in the corner Frog had commandeered for himself, hugging the long-suffering dog tight. Davey, with disheveled dark blond hair and an untamed cowlick, stood watch over her while a female police officer guarded them both. Tamping down his desire to comfort and protect the children, Mac strode into Cynthia's office where Joanna was already witnessing a heated conversation between the club's co-director and a conservatively dressed middle-aged woman who could only be from social services.

"And I'm telling _you_ that Challengers is a certified emergency shelter! On top of that, Davey and Suzy are registered members of the club and have every right to be here!" Cynthia insisted, sending the other woman a scathing look.

"You don't understand," the social worker persisted.

"Oh, I understand all too well!" Cynthia shot back.

"Okay ladies, settle down," MacGyver interrupted. "Are you all right?" he asked, turning to Cynthia.

"I'm fine, but-"

Mac held up his hand to keep her from saying more as he turned to the other woman.

"You must be from social services?"

"Yes. My name is Mrs. Hawley. May I ask what business you have barging into this private consultation?" she asked haughtily.

Mac swallowed the retort that was on the tip of his tongue and took a calming breath.

"Name's MacGyver. I'm the director of Challengers Club and would like some answers about what's going on here."

Mrs. Hawley sighed before launching into her explanation. "Late this morning, the next door neighbor of the Talbot family called the police when she discovered the babysitter passed out on the couch from an apparent drug overdose and no sign of the children. The officers on the scene found the mother's work number and address next to the phone as well as that of Challengers and went to the motel to arrest her once the EMT's arrived and stabilized the sitter."

"Arrest her?!" Mac nearly bellowed. "On what grounds?!"

"Two counts of child neglect and abandonment to begin with," Mrs. Hawley sniffed in satisfaction.

"That's ridiculous!"

"They were just doing their jobs, Mr. MacGyver, and I was called in to collect the children."

"What's gonna happen to them?" Mac asked, regaining his composure.

"They'll be taken down to Child Protective Services and placed with an emergency foster family no later than tomorrow morning."

"That's not acceptable," Mac stated firmly.

"That's the way the system works, Mr. MacGyver," the social worker retorted.

"Well the 'system' stinks!"

Before Mac could continue, Joanna stepped up beside him and lightly touched his forearm, halting any would-be tirade. Normally not one to raise his voice, all bets were off when someone close to him was threatened in any way.

"Mrs. Hawley," Jo began in a placating tone, "last year Mr. MacGyver and I had papers drawn up to grant us emergency temporary custody of our clients' children. I just called the law firm and confirmed that our names are still registered with CPS as emergency foster parents. Since Davey and Suzy are already comfortable with us, perhaps we could streamline the process and have you let us take temporary custody of them."

"Well, of course I will have to verify that information and it's not standard operating procedure," Mrs. Hawley replied icily, "but if it is, indeed, legitimate you may have custody until a more permanent situation can be found."

"Thank you," Jo replied sweetly, unfazed by the other woman's tone. She then turned to address MacGyver.

"I called Lee Vang. He's agreed to represent Jill Talbot and will meet you down at the police station."

Mac looked at Jo then out the office window to where the brother and sister remained in the corner.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of them," she answered in response to his unspoken question, and it was all he could do not to take her into his arms and show her how much her thoughtful actions and support meant to him, but he thought it best to refrain given the steely gaze leveled on them by the stern social worker.

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MacGyver, Lee Vang, and Jill Talbot sat on hard metal chairs surrounding an equally hard metal table in the dank interview room at the local police precinct. Jill was still wearing her uniform from the motel where she worked as a housekeeper. Her eyes were bloodshot and streaks of mascara marred her gaunt cheeks, evidence of the tears she had shed since her arrest.

"We're here to help you, Jill," Lee began, "but you need to tell us everything that led up to where we are today. Can you do that for me?"

"I...I can't afford a real lawyer like you, Mr. Vang," she sobbed.

"It's okay," Mac assured her. "Lee does pro bono work for Challengers. Now tell us what happened."

"I worked the breakfast shift at the diner this morning like I always do. When I stopped home to change clothes, the neighbor lady who babysits Davey and Suzy wasn't feeling well and left."

"Hold on," Lee interrupted. "Which neighbor lady is this?"

"She lives across the street and offered to watch the kids for free this summer. Her husband died last year and she said it would make her feel useful again," Jill hiccupped.

Lee nodded, encouraging the woman to continue. "I didn't know what to do because I had to get to my job at the motel and there was no one to watch my babies so I called my sister to stay with them."

"Are you aware that your sister is a drug addict?" Lee asked gently.

"Yes, but she's been clean for almost a year. I thought she'd be fine with the children otherwise I never would've called her!"

"Why didn't you just bring them to Challengers?" Mac asked.

"You and Challengers have done so much for my family already, I don't want to take advantage of your services."

"But that's what we're there for," MacGyver insisted.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I was just upset and not thinking straight." This brought another onslaught of tears. "What's gonna happen to my babies?"

"Joanna and I are registered emergency foster parents. We'll take care of them until everything gets straightened out."

"I can't ask you to do that! How will I ever repay you?"

"We can talk about that later," Mac told her, not wanting to upset her any more than she already was. "Now you just listen to Mr. Vang and do what he tells you. Everything will be fine."

Jill offered the two men a watery smile before a guard entered and led her back to the holding cell.

Mac sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. "So what happens now?" he asked Lee.

The lawyer glanced at his watch and frowned. "The courts are closed for the weekend. Ms. Talbot will be held here until her arraignment on Monday at which time I'm going to ask that all charges be dismissed."

"Do you think the judge will agree to that?"

"It's hard to say, but so far the prosecution has a very weak case, so that's in our favor. You and Joanna just make sure those kids stay safe and leave the legal stuff to me, okay?" Vang smiled and shook MacGyver's hand before the two men went their separate ways.

When Mac returned to Challengers, he immediately sought out his new charges. He found Davey sitting cross-legged in an overstuffed chair immersed in a book about dinosaurs while Suzy was carefully creating a finger paint masterpiece under Jo's supervision.

"Look what I made Daddy Mac!" the little girl called from across the room.

MacGyver made his way over to the newspaper-covered table to examine her creation.

"It's a picture of all of us!" she proclaimed happily. "See, there's Mommy, and Davey and me and you and Ms. Joanna!"

"That's great, sweetheart! But you need to wipe that blob off before it gets on your hands."

Suzy immediately frowned and Joanna shot him a you-should-know-better scowl.

"That's not a blob," the girl protested. "That's Frog!"

"Of course it is!" Mac replied quickly, trying to pry his foot out of his mouth. "I was just teasing you!"

Relief flooded him when the little girl giggled. "Here," she said, thrusting the paper toward him. "You can hang it in your office!"

"That sounds like a great idea! Ms. Joanna, would you like to help me?" he asked, hoping she would pick up on what he was really trying to say.

"Sure," she immediately agreed before grabbing another large piece of blank paper and addressing Suzy. "Here sweetie, why don't you make a painting for your mom this time?"

Suzy shrugged and wordlessly dipped her fingers into the mushy paint and began drawing as if she hadn't a care in the world.

Once secluded in his office, MacGyver told Joanna everything that had happened with Jill.

"I hope Lee is right," she said. "There's no way those charges should stick! Jill's a great mom!"

"I don't get why she's the criminal in this when it's all her sister's fault," Mac groaned.

"Unfortunately, I saw this type of situation more than once when I was working in the correctional facility. A parent can be prosecuted for leaving their children with a less-than-competent caregiver even if they don't realize it."

Mac was about to voice his protest but decided to save his energy and instead asked, "What did I miss on this end?"

"After you left, Cynthia and I asked the kids to tell us what happened. They said they were watching TV when their mom left for her second job and when the show ended they wanted to play with their aunt. When they couldn't wake her up, they got bored and came to Challengers. Their presence didn't raise any red flags because they're here so often anyway."

MacGyver jammed his fingers through his hair. "Man, talk about a mole hill turning into a mountain."

"Tell me about it," Jo commiserated. "Anyway, Cynthia and I talked with them and explained their mom wasn't feeling well and that they would be staying with you and me for a 'fun' weekend so their mom could rest."

"Well then, I better get the kids back to my place before Mrs. Hawley finds out I kept them up past their bedtime," Mac smirked. "Wanna come by in the morning for pancakes?"

"Um, sure," she replied softly, her eyes downcast.

Mac tucked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I just said something wrong. What is it?"

"Nothing," she said, jerking her head away. "I just thought we were in this together. You know you don't have to do your 'hero' stuff alone anymore."

"Sorry, force of habit. Can you forgive me?" he asked, eyebrow quirked.

She nodded.

"How about we stop by your place on the way so you can pick up some things?"

She looked up at him sheepishly. "While you were gone I called my mom and she packed a bag for me and dropped it off. I'm good to go."

For the first time that day, MacGyver's world slowed and his attention was solely focused on the strong, beautiful woman in front of him. "Thank you," he said before he dipped his head and found her lips with his. He kept the kiss soft and warm and, by necessity, all too short.

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After leaving Challengers, MacGyver stopped at the Talbot home where he and Joanna helped the children each pack a small bag for the weekend before heading to his townhouse. He had barely unlocked the door before the brother and sister scampered across the threshold to inspect their new surroundings.

"How do you expect us to play hide-and-seek in here?" Davey demanded, arms folded across his chest.

"So much for open-concept architecture," Joanna snickered.

"Where are the bedrooms?" Suzy asked, ignoring her brother's concern.

"There's only one bedroom. Upstairs," Mac informed her.

"Where are we all gonna sleep?" she asked with a huff.

Jo sent MacGyver a bemused look and watched him squirm as he tried to figure out the answer.

"Well...I figure you and Ms. Joanna can sleep in the bed upstairs and Davey and I will bunk down here."

"Why do _they_ get the bed," the young boy complained.

"Because they're ladies and we, as gentleman, need to make sure they are comfortable."

"Suzy ain't no lady, she's my sister!" Davey exclaimed.

Mac looked like a drowning man on dry land and it was all Jo could do to keep from laughing out loud. However, not wanting the battle of the sexes to escalate, she quickly altered the solution.

"How about Suzy and I take the bed and you and Mac can pitch a tent in the backyard and pretend you're on a camp out?"

"But I wanna go camping, too!" the little girl cried.

Joanna groaned and covered her face with her hands. She could only imagine the goofy pay-back grin on MacGyver's face and refused to meet his gaze.

"There's plenty of room for the three of us in my tent," Mac assured Suzy. "That is, unless Joanna wants to join us."

This time she _did_ look him in the eye and pulled a face before grabbing her bag and heading up the spiral staircase. "Not me! I'll be very happy all alone in this great big comfy bed," she proclaimed.

With the sleeping arrangements settled, at least for one night, they sat down to a late supper after which Mac put up the tent while the children bathed and got ready for bed. It was almost midnight by the time Joanna crawled into MacGyver's bed and snuggled underneath the covers. The mattress was firm and the sheets smelled fresh. How often did Mac actually sleep in his bed anyway? She knew he had an affinity for couches and had always chalked it up to being part of his loveable quirkiness. But what if it was more than that? What if he got lonely sleeping in an empty bed night after night and crashed on the sofa so he wouldn't have to face that particular demon? A pang of sadness stabbed her heart just as sleep claimed her.

Joanna slowly opened her eyes. How long had she been asleep? Minutes? Hours? It was impossible to tell, but the one thing she knew for certain was that she was not alone. Rolling over and raising herself up on one elbow she squinted into the darkness to find MacGyver standing at the foot of the bed.

"What's wrong? Are the kids okay?" She was suddenly wide awake.

"Relax," he whispered. "Everything's fine. The kids are sleeping on the couch."

"Why?"

"Suzy bailed on us after thirty minutes insisting she had seen a bear. About an hour later, Davey went into the house for a drink of water and never came back, apparently succumbing to the comfort of the couch. They just don't make kids like they used to."

"What about you?"

"I was only roughing it for them," Mac replied, then nodded toward the empty side of the bed. "I was kinda hoping you'd be willing to share."

Joanna silently answered by pulling back the unused covers, allowing MacGyver to slip into bed. She swore he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow, but she stayed awake much longer listening to his soft, rhythmic breathing and enjoying the weight and warmth of his body next to hers. The next time she awoke, rays of sunlight were streaming through the skylight overhead and a small raucous had erupted downstairs.

"I want my mommy!" Suzy wailed loudly.

"Don't be such a crybaby!" Davey shouted back.

"I'm not a crybaby!" Suzy protested in return.

Mac bolted out of bed and down the stairs before Joanna regained enough consciousness to sit up.

"Knock it off, you two," she heard him say in a calm but firm voice.

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After assuring Suzy that she would see her mother soon and convincing Davey not to call his sister names, MacGyver went into the kitchen to whip up a batch of his world famous pancakes while the siblings watched Saturday morning cartoons. Joanna soon joined them, already showered and dressed for the day, but the dark circles under her eyes told him she must have had a restless night. A twinge of guilt shot through him as he recalled the night before. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly. Just lying next to Jo had been like a soothing balm to his soul.

"You're letting them eat in front of the TV?" she asked behind a yawn.

"Good morning to you, too," Mac grinned.

"Sorry. Good morning," she mumbled.

"I keep forgetting you're not a morning person," he apologized as he pulled a kitchen chair away from the table for her to plop down in.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Jo asked once they had both taken several bites of their breakfast.

"I thought we'd all go to Challengers. You need to pick up your car since you left it there yesterday and Cynthia deserves a break."

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed.

After putting away the breakfast dishes, Mac showered and dressed while Joanna wrangled the kids and got them ready for the day. When they arrived at Challengers they found one group of teens in the middle of a heated pick-up basketball game while another group tried their hand at street hockey. Inside the club, members were playing table games, working out on the exercise equipment or simply chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Davey quickly found the dinosaur book he had been reading the day before and buried himself in its pages while Suzy made a beeline for the corner where Frog, up until now, slept peacefully. Joanna followed MacGyver to his office where he quickly placed a call to Lee Vang.

"Any news?" she asked after he hung up.

"No," Mac sighed. "He said we won't know anything until after the initial court appearance on Monday."

"So we just have to wait," Jo frowned.

MacGyver went to stand behind her and began massaging her shoulders.

"I know it's frustrating, but we don't have a choice," he said before burying his face in the curve of her neck, taking in her sweetness. A soft knock on the door interrupted him.

"Go away," he groaned, not willing to move an inch.

The knock came again and Joanna eased out of his grasp with an apologetic smile. "You probably should answer that since we _are_ at work."

With a heavy sigh Mac opened the door and looked down to find Suzy and Davey looking up at him.

"We're bored," they informed him in unison.

Of course they were bored. They were the youngest members of the club and few teens wanted to spend their time at Challengers babysitting. It was dumb thinking on his part to expect them to spend the entire day here.

"I just remembered I have some errands to run," Jo announced, stepping up beside him. "I could use a couple helpers. What do you say?"

"I wanna come! Mommy says I'm the bestest helper in the whole world!" Suzy proclaimed.

Davey rolled his eyes. "I guess it beats sitting around here all day," he replied flatly.

Mac wasn't sure if Joanna truly had errands or not, but he sincerely appreciated her efforts to distract the children. She grabbed her purse and shot him a bright smile as if she had read his thoughts before herding the kids out the door.

MacGyver sequestered himself in his office for the rest of the morning. With Joanna now working full-time at Challengers for the summer, he figured he would use this time to revamp the schedule. After an hour of frustrating confusion he was seriously thinking about leaving this particular task for Cynthia, or perhaps even Joanna herself. Coordinating high level security for visiting foreign dignitaries or developing a secret reconnaissance mission in a hostile Middle Eastern country was a piece of cake compared to working out a weekly schedule with a cast of ever-changing volunteers. Not quite ready to admit defeat, he decided to clear his head. He shot a round of pool with Raul before heading outside where he demonstrated the finer points of street hockey to a small group of boys and played a little one-on-one b-ball with some of the newer members. The Talbots might be the youngest members of the club, but Mac would happily admit to being the oldest!

Back in his office, he put in another couple hours of work and actually had a somewhat complete schedule to show for it. By mid-afternoon, a number of adult volunteers were on duty and he was anxious to see how Jo and the kids were doing so he collected Frog and headed home. What he saw when he turned the Jeep into his driveway made his heart ache in the most wonderful way. Joanna was kneeling on the grass between Suzy and Davey, their hands digging in the narrow strip of dirt between the house and walkway which had probably once been a flower garden and would be again if the flat of colorful petunias sitting on the front step was any indication. Was this what other men felt when they returned home to their wife and children? A wave of love and contentment washed over him as he slowly climbed from the car. Frog wiggled past him before awkwardly scampering to the backyard, presumably to avoid Suzy's strangling hugs, and it was the little girl who first acknowledged his presence.

"Look, Daddy Mac! We're makin' a garden!"

"I can see that," he called back happily.

As he got closer to the little domestic scene, he noticed that Joanna had put Davey in charge of digging holes while she helped Suzy release the plants from their plastic containers and place them in the dirt, carefully burying their roots.

"You're doing great, keep it up," Jo encouraged them as she slowly rose to her feet and made her way to MacGyver.

"So this was the 'errand' you had to run earlier?" he asked for only her to hear.

"I've had the idea in the back of my mind for awhile and today seemed like the perfect opportunity. I hope you don't mind."

"Not a chance," he assured her.

"But you're gonna have to remember to water them every now and again," she instructed.

"Don't worry," Mac said with a wicked grin. "I'll put Frog in charge of that."

Joanna playfully swatted his shoulder just as the children announced they had completed their task.

"How does it look, Daddy Mac?" Suzy asked.

"It looks perfect. Every time I see the flowers I'll think of you."

Suzy smiled and ran to wrap her arms around his waist, grubby hands and all.

"Why don't you go in and wash up and we'll all go out to dinner to celebrate the new garden," Mac suggested and was met with a chorus of cheers.

Dressed in clean clothes with freshly scrubbed hands, the foursome were soon seated at a table at their favorite Italian restaurant. They had ordered two pizzas to accommodate everyone's taste and once they were served, there was no shortage of opinions, especially when it came to MacGyver's half of one of the pies.

"Ew! What's that?!" Davey asked, wrinkling his nose.

"It's pineapple," Mac laughed, holding out a piece to the boy. "Want some?"

"No way!"

"Why do you have so many veggies on your pizza?" Suzy asked him, truly bewildered. "Are you being punished?"

"No. I like veggies," he answered simply, which caused the little girl to shake her head in dismay before biting into her own piece.

Armed with leftovers in Styrofoam carry-out containers that would be tomorrow's lunch, they left the restaurant to find dark storm clouds hovering in the western sky. MacGyver checked the weather report as soon as they arrived home and informed Joanna that several strong storm squalls would be passing through during the night. While not looking forward to dealing with potentially frightened children, the wild weather did make sleeping arrangements incredibly easy: Everyone in the household piled onto Mac's bed, including Frog. Sleep was intermittent at best as the occupants dozed until a loud clap of thunder would awaken them. Finally, near dawn, the last line of storms rumbled away over Lake Michigan allowing exhaustion and fear to give way to peaceful slumber.

Hours later, Mac awoke gasping for air. At some point, Suzy had rolled over, her arm laying across his windpipe. Moving gingerly to relieve the pressure yet not wake the girl, he laid back and listened to the lingering rain fall in a steady rhythm against the roof. Joanna, Davey and Suzy still slept, their faces slightly flushed and serene, while soft snores emanated from the bulldog on the foot of the bed. Oh, how easily he could get used to waking up to a scene like this every day for the rest of his life. The sudden ring of the telephone shattered the dreamy peacefulness. MacGyver rolled out of bed and jogged down the stairs hoping to quiet the phone before it woke anyone else.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice still raspy from sleep.

Hey, Mac! Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday morning." It was Lee Vang.

"No problem. What's up?" Mac asked quietly so as not to disturb the still-sleeping trio upstairs.

"I'm preparing for Jill Talbot's arraignment tomorrow and was wondering if you and Joanna could have the kids there. It'd be even better if you could also get Ms. Wilson and some of the volunteers to go too."

Mac scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "That might be a problem," he hedged. "See, we kinda lied and told the kids their mom was sick. We didn't want to upset them more than they already were."

"I understand," Lee said, "but I plan on going out on a limb with the judge and could really use some back up."

"Don't worry, Lee. I'll take care of it. We'll see you tomorrow," MacGyver promised.

He hung up the phone and turned to find Joanna standing at the foot of the stairs, her arms wrapped around her middle.

"What did Lee want? What are you going to take care of?" she questioned.

He relayed the telephone conversation to her before they both headed back upstairs to get the kids up and dressed. A short while later they were all seated around the kitchen table for breakfast. Mac sipped a protein shake while Jo ran her spoon back and forth through a bowl of cereal. Picking up on the adults' discomfort, Davey and Suzy took a couple bites of pancakes before declaring themselves full. MacGyver caught Jo's gaze and they both knew it was now or never. So, over the half-eaten meal, they took turns explaining to the two young children exactly what had happened with their mother and that they would all be going to the courthouse tomorrow. When they were done speaking, Suzy climbed onto Mac's lap, buried her head in his shoulder and began to sob. Davey shoved his chair back and ran out the front door. Mac watched Joanna follow without trying to intercept him, knowing the boy needed some time to process what he had just heard.

Heavy gray clouds blanketed the sky for the rest of the day, aptly reflecting the mood in the townhouse. Once breakfast dishes were done and the children were settled in front of the TV, Joanna went to her house and then the Talbot's to collect court-worthy clothes for the next day. While she was gone, MacGyver called Cynthia and a couple other volunteers who knew Davey and Suzy well. They all agreed to be in court for Jill's arraignment and offered encouraging words. With those tasks complete, the day passed slowly and sullenly. The brother and sister had apparently agreed to divest themselves of adult interference and built an invisible barrier between them and their guardians so much so that after a silent supper of leftover pizza they climbed the stairs together and crawled into bed, leaving Mac and Joanna sitting on the couch to watch an old black and white western on television that couldn't even hold MacGyver's interest.

XXXXX

The courtroom was abuzz with activity when Mac, Jo and the kids arrived Monday morning. Davey squeezed Joanna's hand and clung to her side while Suzy refused to walk, insisting that MacGyver carry her. It didn't take long before he found Lee Vang, Cynthia, and a couple other Challenger parent volunteers standing in the front row of the gallery.

"Thanks so much for coming and bringing the children," Lee said as he greeted them with handshakes

"So what's the plan?" Mac asked as he settled a protesting Suzy in an empty seat while Jo did the same with her brother.

"Just wait and see," Lee smiled, leaving MacGyver to wonder how the man could appear so confident and optimistic.

A hush fell over the crowd when the judge appeared and took his seat behind the bench as everyone followed suit. Three cases were presented before Jill Talbot was escorted to the defendant's table where Lee waited for her. She was still wearing her housekeeping uniform which was now dirty and wrinkled, but to Mac's relief, her children were spared from seeing their mother in jail clothes and handcuffs. Once advised of her constitutional rights and having the charges against her read, she was asked to enter her plea. MacGyver watched as Jill peeled her eyes away from the judge only to land on her lawyer as Lee cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Your honor, on behalf of my client, I ask that you dismiss this case immediately and rescind all charges."

"Counselor, you are well aware this is not the time nor the place for such a motion," the judge warned.

"On the contrary, your honor, this is exactly the time. Ms. Talbot has two jobs she is currently at risk of losing as well as children who need their mother to return home. What happened last week is not my client's fault. She did what she believed to be in the best interest of her children. Any and all fault lies clearly with her sister, who is being tried and prosecuted separately."

"You're not going to let this go, are you Mr. Vang?" the judge asked the lawyer even as he eyed MacGyver, Joanna, and the rest of the Challengers contingent.

"No, your honor, I am not."

The judge sighed loudly. "Would all pertinent parties to the case adjourn to my chambers?" Though phrased as a question, Mac knew it was a command.

As the group crowded into the judge's private quarters, Davey and Suzy ran to their mother, each grabbing one of her hands and holding on for dear life. MacGyver couldn't help but think he saw a slight crack in the judge's stern countenance.

"Your honor, I must strongly object to this unprecedented turn of events," the prosecuting district attorney sputtered.

The judge pinned him with a steely gaze. "This is not a hearing so you cannot object," he reprimanded, "and even if you could, it would be overruled since I want to hear what Mr. Vang has to say."

Lee took this opportunity to pounce. "As you can see, your honor, the Talbot children are healthy and well-cared for with no sign of neglect. In addition, my client has never received so much as a speeding ticket. The D.A. has a weak case at best, so I suggest we save the court time and the Talbots a lot of distress by allowing them to walk out of this courthouse today as a family."

The judge once again turned his attention to the prosecutor who was nervously re-adjusting his tie. "Exactly what type of evidence do you have against the defendant?" he asked.

"I have an eyewitness, your honor."

"And what will your eyewitness testify to?"

"She found the defendant's sister unconscious and no children in the house."

"Can she testify that the children were in imminent danger?"

"No, your honor."

"Can she testify to a cycle of neglect?"

"Um, no, your honor."

After several minutes of silent consideration, the judge turned his attention to Lee Vang.

"Given the prosecutor's painful lack of evidence, I will make an exception and accept your motion to dismiss this case."

The Talbot's and their supporters breathed a collective sigh of relief before profusely thanking the judge and being led out a side door by the bailiff. In the parking lot, hugs and handshakes were exchanged before Davey and Suzy, along with their mother, piled into Lee's sedan for the ride home while Joanna and MacGyver climbed into the Jeep with promises to quickly return the children's meager belongings that remained at the townhouse.

Less than an hour later, the couple sat at Mac's kitchen table nibbling on a light lunch of fruit and yogurt.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day," MacGyver asked Jo, mainly to break the silence that had fallen between them since leaving the courthouse.

She shrugged. "Since it's technically my first day of work at Challengers I was gonna meet with Cynthia and start learning some of the behind-the-scenes stuff. You know, the stuff _you_ don't like to do."

Mac allowed himself to smile at her quip before turning serious.

"It's been a pretty crazy past few days. Why don't you go home and start fresh tomorrow?"

"What about you?" she countered, sidestepping his question.

"I thought I'd pack up the kids' stuff and drop it off on my way to the club," he replied. His voice almost monotone.

"Sure is quiet around here without them," Joanna observed. "They sure have a knack of worming their way into your heart when you're not looking."

"No argument here," Mac agreed. "But there _is_ one member of this household who's not gonna miss 'em."

MacGyver slanted his eyes to where Frog laid stretched out under the coffee table, snoring loudly.

 **A/N: This story is based on actual situations I have encountered working in the correctional system. Unfortunately, it is generally limited to the poor and minorities.**


	20. Deja Vu

**Deja Vu**

"Hello? Hello?!"

MacGyver slammed the telephone receiver back down into the cradle.

"Whoa! What did that phone ever do to you?" Joanna quipped from his office doorway.

He sent a steely gaze her way.

"I've been getting prank calls all day," he growled. "As soon as I answer they hang up."

Jo shrugged. "It's the start of summer vacation and kids are bored. Didn't you ever do stuff like that when you were young?"

Mac's eyes softened. "Yeah, I suppose I did some dumb things in my time. I guess I'm just cranky today."

"That time of the month, huh?" Joanna asked, glancing at the pile of invoices on his desk.

"Yeah. I really wasn't thinking when I told Cynthia to take the day off." He jammed his splayed fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Why don't you sign some blank checks and take off. I can handle the bills."

MacGyver looked at her skeptically.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked. A mix of hurt and indignation in her voice.

"Of course I trust you. I just don't want to overwork you right off the bat."

Jo's light laugh warmed him as she came to stand behind his chair and massage his shoulders.

"Wow, you really are tense," she observed, kneading his taut muscles.

MacGyver could feel the warmth of her hands through the thin fabric of his shirt and willed himself to relax as her thumbs began to caress the back of his neck. Man, he loved this woman!

"I'll go home on one condition," he told her.

"And what's that?"

He reached up and grabbed her forearms, gently yanking her upper body over the back of his chair.

"That you come with me," he grinned mischievously.

Jo pulled free of his light grasp and walked around to the front of his desk.

"That would defeat the entire purpose and you'd just come back to this stuff tomorrow. Go home or go skating or...something! Just get out of here and relax!"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a mock salute, giving her a peck on the tip of her nose as he passed her on his way out the door.

XXXXX

After two hours of working up a sweat on the ice followed by a long, hot shower, MacGyver still felt a niggle of soul-deep anxiety. His sixth sense, which he had so often relied on in the past, was clearly trying to tell him something, something he was unable to comprehend. Dressed in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, he now rifled through his refrigerator looking for something to eat. Not particularly hungry, he grabbed an apple from the crisper, took a bite, and pushed the door closed with his hip. No sooner had he swallowed than the telephone rang. He tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a groan. Tempted to let the answering machine take it, he took another bite of fruit before deciding to answer the call after all. It could be something or someone important...like Joanna.

"Hello?" he mumbled around a mouthful of sweet, juicy apple.

He was greeted with an eerie silence before an all-too-familiar maniacal laugh came over the line, causing him to swallow hard. The voice was raspy and somewhat mechanical, but he would recognize that evil tone anywhere.

"No! No way! You're dead!" he yelled, before clicking off the call and sending the cordless handset flying across the room.

He dropped his apple on the counter and crumpled into the nearest chair, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

"It's not him. It's not him," Mac muttered over and over, trying to convince himself he hadn't heard who he thought he heard.

MacGyver had no idea how long he sat there, repeating his mantra, but when he next looked up darkness had settled over the apartment. Both ashamed and angry for letting a dead man control his emotions, he made his way to the couch where he sprawled out and eventually fell into a fitful slumber.

Much to his dismay, Mac awoke several times during the night, his spine tingling with the sensation that someone was watching him. Each time, he took a turn around his apartment to ensure all windows and doors were locked and no one was lurking in the shadows. Even Frog slept undisturbed. He was completely alone.

The following morning, a bleary-eyed MacGyver entered his office to find Joanna leaning lazily against his desk before slowly walking towards him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, and gracing him with a soft yet sensual kiss.

"Wow! What did I do to deserve that?!" he asked, surprised and a bit stimulated by her assertiveness.

"As if you didn't know," she chided with a knowing smile.

"With a welcome like that I'd do it a lot more, but honestly, _what_ are you talking about?"

Jo frowned and took a step back. "The flowers you sent to my house yesterday."

"What flowers?"

"The long-stemmed red roses you had delivered," she replied.

"As much as I'd like to take the credit, I didn't send you roses, or anything else for that matter. Wasn't there a card?"

"Yeah," she replied, her mood seriously soured. "All it said was 'Much love, M'."

"'M'? Not my name?"

"No," Jo responded, now seeming to slip into confusion. "But who else could it be?"

"It's not him," Mac whispered to himself. "It's. Not. Him."

"Not who?" Joanna's voice was far away.

Mac shook his head to resettle his thoughts and bring himself back to the present.

"A ghost from my past. Remember me telling you about Murdoc?"

"That crazy assassin that kept trying to kill you? Yeah, I remember. But he's been dead for over a year, Mac. You watched him die. You went to the morgue to make sure he was dead. It can't be him," she reasoned.

"You don't know Murdoc," he muttered.

"C'mon Mac, think about this logically," Joanna urged. "Maybe one of your friends is just playing a joke on you. Maybe it's just Jack and his weird sense of humor."

MacGyver shook his head adamantly. "No. None of my friends would ever joke about Murdoc," he told her firmly.

"What about your enemies? I'm sure you have some."

"Yeah...but the phone calls, the flowers...this has 'Murdoc' written all over it," Mac sighed as he lowered himself into the chair behind his desk.

He was interrupted by a soft tap on the door jamb where Cynthia stood holding a large brown envelope.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought you'd want to see this." She raised the package she held a bit higher. "It was in with the morning mail, but there's no postmark or return address, just your name on the front."

"Thanks Cynthia," Jo replied as she took the envelope and passed it to MacGyver as the other woman headed back to her office.

Dread and curiosity warred with each other as Mac stared at the parcel now in his hands. With Joanna watching, he tore it open and tipped it sideways, allowing several photographs to slide out. He studied the grainy images one by one before passing them to Jo, the blood draining from his face. There were pictures of him and her, both alone and together, pictures of their houses, of Challengers, of the club members playing outside.

"He's been stalking us for weeks," Joanna whispered incredulously.

"That does it," MacGyver announced as he stood up and began putting the photos back into the envelope. "This is definitely Murdoc and I gotta get out of here."

"Why?! Where are you going?!" Jo demanded.

"I'm not sure yet. I just have to get away from you and Challengers. It's me he wants. I'm not gonna put anybody else in danger."

"Then I'm coming with you," she declared.

Mac rounded on her, his voice rising. "Haven't you heard a word I said? This is Murdoc we're dealing with. I need to do this alone!"

"Isn't there anyone you can call? Tell them what's happening? Maybe they can help."

"Everyone is convinced he's dead. They'll think _I'm_ the lunatic!"

"What about Pete?" she asked quietly.

MacGyver took a deep breath before blowing it out. "It would be a stretch, even for him. I'll be in touch." He kissed her tenderly on the forehead before turning to leave.

XXXXX

Mac pulled his empty duffle bag out from underneath the bed, set it on the mattress, and began haphazardly filling it with clothes and other necessities. He had decided to head up to Harry's cabin. That was probably where Murdoc anticipated he would go. He still hadn't formed a plan about what to do when he finally came face-to-face with his archenemy. He'd deal with that when the time came. Right now he had to draw the danger away from everything he held dear. His phone rang and he gave it a venomous glare. This time he would let the machine get it. He heard the beep and then a familiar voice come over the speaker.

"MacGyver, it's Pete. If you're there, pick up."

Mac scrubbed his face with his hand. He really didn't want to talk to anybody, but if things went south with Murdoc, this could be the last conversation he would have with his friend.

"Hey, Pete."

"Joanna called and told me what's happening. Are you out of your mind?!"

"Maybe."

"You and I both know Murdoc is dead, so before you go running off, take a minute to think things through. Who else might be behind this?"

"I don't know Pete. I just don't know," Mac replied despondently before ending the call.

Calmer now, MacGyver forced his mind to go into field ops mode. His history with Murdoc had made their rivalry personal and allowed emotion to get in the way of logic. He wasn't going to let that happen again. Sitting at his kitchen table, he took a closer look at the pictures that had been delivered to Challengers, studying them objectively. Something wasn't right. The quality was off. Not quite blurry, but not crystal clear either. Photography was part of the assassin's M.O., but it was also one of his passions. Like everything else he did, the images he produced were neat and clean. And then there was the content. Specifically, the photo of the kids at Challengers. Though most always categorized as a cold-blooded killer, Murdoc drew the line at harming children. While concentrating on the pictures, the phone call from the night before began to replay itself in MacGyver's head. It, too, had been 'off'. The raspiness of the voice and that mechanical sound, almost like a...tape recorder!

Mac grabbed the telephone and quickly dialed Pete's number.

"It's not Murdoc," he announced as soon as his call was answered.

"See? I told you!" Pete proclaimed.

"But if it's not Murdoc, it's someone who wants me to _think_ it is."

Mac considered this for a moment.

"Pete, what's the status of HIT?"

"Well, as you know, we were able to shut them down using the information against them that Murdoc gave to you several years ago, but they somehow resurfaced though not to their initial extent. Shortly after you left Phoenix they went dormant. The Foundation, DXS, and other government agencies all monitored them for activity but by the time I retired it seemed they had shut down for good."

"Can you verify that and get back to me?"

"Sure," Pete promised. "You gonna be sticking around for a while?"

"Yeah." Mac hung up. All he could do for now was wait.

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From the second MacGyver turned his back on her Joanna began to worry. Where would he go? What would he do? He had let his emotions get the better of him and he wasn't thinking straight. She wanted to help him, but how? If she went to him, she could possibly be putting herself in danger as well as be a distraction for him. If she stayed away, he was on his own. Out there alone with a murderer after him. Hopefully Pete had been able to speak with him and help him see reason. Nervous energy had her re-organizing Mac's office when Raul came to her.

"Ms. Jo, there's a man here to see you."

"Thanks Raul. I'll be out in a minute. Where's Ms. Cynthia?"

"She's upstairs cleaning the dorm rooms. Do you want me to get her?"

"No, let's see what this guy wants first. If I can't help him we'll call for her."

It didn't take Joanna long to spot the stranger standing just inside the rec room chatting with some of the teens. She walked slowly, taking time to assess him. Of average height and build, his dirty blond hair was cut military-short showcasing his piercing blue eyes. He wore a loose-fitting suit and his smile was strained. Joanna stood tall and confident as she approached him.

"Good afternoon," she said in greeting. "I work here at Challengers. Is there something I can help you with?"

He turned his empty smile on her causing a shiver to run down her back as she looked into eyes that were cold as ice.

"I was actually hoping to see MacGyver. He and I are old chums."

Loud warning bells went off in her head. Was this Murdoc?

"I'm sorry. Mac's not here right now. If you give me your name I can tell him you stopped by when he comes back."

"You must be Joanna," the man said, totally disregarding her suggestion.

"How do you know my name?" She hoped her voice didn't betray the quivering in her stomach.

"Like I said, _Mac_ and I are old friends. I tend to keep myself abreast of his...activities. If you don't mind, I think I'll just stay and wait for him."

The man took a seat on a tattered couch and casually crossed his legs.

"I'm actually not sure when he'll return. He may have even gone out of town for a few days" Jo said, groping for anything to say that would get this unsettling man to leave.

"You are so naive, my dear. He will come when you ask him to. After all, he's partial to saving damsels in distress." The man slowly opened his jacket to reveal a shoulder holster holding a handgun.

Joanna couldn't believe her eyes. "It's true. You _are_ Murdoc! You're alive!" She kept her voice low so the kids couldn't hear.

"I think it's time you made a phone call, eh?"

"And if I don't?"

The man shot to his feet and slapped Joanna across the cheek hard enough to make her head spin.

"Oh, I think you will. Now go call MacGyver like a good little girl."

Joanna nodded and obediently went to the telephone on the reception desk and dialed his number.

"The line's busy."

"Keep trying."

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"What do you got for me, Pete?" Mac asked anxiously after answering the phone on the second ring.

"Not much, I'm afraid," the older man sighed. "HIT is still officially underground, but there is some suspicion among certain government agencies that there's been some activity in the recent months. Mainly in Europe."

"What kind of activity?"

"My sources couldn't divulge that information, but they did tell me that a rogue agent by the name of Clancy has gotten antsy and may have struck out on his own. Possibly to prove his worth to HIT."

"Did this Clancy character have any connection with Murdoc?"

"Mac, you know I couldn't ask that! Just my poking around has probably raised some eyebrows. I did, however, put a couple trusted people on alert, just in case Clancy is the one harassing you."

"I understand, Pete. Thanks for your help."

"Keep me posted," Pete instructed as Mac clicked off the call.

MacGyver had barely set the phone back on the counter when it rang again.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mac, it's me." Joanna said in a tense voice.

"Are you okay?" he asked, but she just continued talking.

"An old friend of yours is here and waiting to see you."

Mac's heart plummeted to his toes. "Do whatever he tells you. I'm on my way!"

MacGyver ran to his Jeep and headed to Challengers. The trip had never seemed so long even though he was pretty sure he was breaking every land speed record known to man. He screeched to a halt in front of the large building but took a moment to collect his thoughts. He had no idea what he was stepping into. He needed to be calm, careful, and focused. There were too many people in harm's way. He cautiously entered the recreation room to find everyone huddled together in the exercise area facing a man who had a gun trained on them. Cynthia's dark eyes were wide with fear, while Joanna's were mere slits staring down her captor. A reddish mark, much like the imprint of a hand, marred her cheek and made his blood boil. But he had to remain objective and diffuse this situation without anyone getting hurt.

"Rule number one at assassin school is to never leave your back exposed. Were you absent that day, Clancy?"

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, MacGyver. Besides, rule number two is to know your enemy. I know you don't carry a weapon, and any attack on me would cause my gun to fire into this mass of humanity you seem so keen on protecting."

"What are you doin' here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Clancy asked, still not turning toward his foe. "I've come to kill you."

"Then kill me and get it over with, but let everyone else go. They mean nothing to you."

"Mmmm, no. I think not. You see, your friend Murdoc had somewhat of a moral code, albeit a bit twisted, that caused him to leave loose ends, especially where _you_ were concerned. I, on the other hand, have no such qualms regarding children and innocent bystanders. I do whatever it takes to get the job done. And this time I will succeed where Murdoc consistently failed and become HIT's new golden boy."

"But HIT's been disbanded. There's nothing in this for you," Mac argued.

"Oh, MacGyver," Clancy chuckled. "You and your intelligence agents are such simpletons. HIT has been active for years. Carrying out assignments right under your noses. But that's neither here nor there. It's time for you and me to take care of some business of our own."

"This is mass murder, Clancy. How do you plan to get away with it?"

The hitman sighed. "If you must know, while your friends are mourning your untimely death, at my hands, no less, the stove in your so-called kitchen will suddenly have an unexplained gas leak causing an explosion. It could be days before all the bodies are recovered from the rubble. But, alas, your friends will have succumbed to the fumes before the blast can kill them. Unfortunately, it will be quite painless for them."

Tired of talking to the back of the madman's head, MacGyver's first instinct was to shout out and make him turn around and face him like a man. Mac was, as always, more than willing to give up his life for his friends, but this time, his death would seal their fates as well. He needed a plan, and he needed one quick. His eyes began to methodically search the room until his gaze fell upon a pair of hand weights someone had forgotten to pick up and put away, a bright pink vinyl covering concealing the five pounds of solid cast iron underneath. Too bad they lay just on the edge of Clancy's peripheral vision. He'd need a diversion to get the man's eyes to move away just a bit. Knowing he needed help and trusting in the unspoken connection he and Joanna often shared, he stared at her until he knew she felt his gaze. He breathed an inward sigh when he felt her eyes collide with his. Once he had her attention, he let his eyes slide from hers, to the weights, and back. After two glances she lowered her chin imperceptibly to indicate she understood.

"You're awful quiet back there, MacGyver. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Clancy taunted snidely.

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Joanna knew Mac was counting on her to keep Clancy occupied while he reached for the would-be weapons. But what could she do? As a teacher, she had learned to quickly evaluate her students' strengths and weaknesses. She thought she had a pretty good idea of Clancy's as well.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that Clancy?" she said, her voice steadier than she could have ever anticipated.

"What do you mean?" he snapped, his gaze sending icy shards through her.

Ah, yes. A person's ego was always their downfall. He _had_ to know what she thought of him.

"You think you're better than Murdoc. That you can do what he couldn't. But the funny thing is, you wouldn't be here today without him."

"How so?" There was no denying the anger in the man's voice. She had hit a nerve. Caught him off guard. She took the smallest of steps to her right, but he didn't notice. Gotcha!

"Well, you see," she began to explain, all the while taking miniscule steps that, if his gaze followed, would keep Mac out of his field of vision. "It took you using Murdoc's tricks to reel MacGyver in. The phone calls, the flowers, the paranoia and fear. You knew Mac would rise to Murdoc's bait, but not to yours. Not to plain old Clancy who he didn't even know existed until today. And then you go and turn your back on the most dangerous man in this room."

Her heart was in her throat as she watched Mac, over Clancy's shoulder, move just enough to reach out and quickly grab the bright pink dumbbells.

"Shut up!" cried the assassin. "You know I could shoot you right now!"

"You're gonna kill us all anyway so what difference does it make," she shot back, belatedly realizing that probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. Thankfully she seemed to have already lost his interest.

"Enough games! MacGyver, come stand in front of me and face me like a man while I kill you!"

"Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" Jo detected an uneasy edge in Clancy's voice. "Afraid I'll miss and hit one of the little hostages instead? Well, let me assure you, Mr. MacGyver, I don't miss!"

Joanna knew Mac wouldn't make a move until everyone else was out of harm's way. She had to get Clancy to turn around. She hoped that the adrenaline already flowing through his system coupled with every human's basic fight-or-flight instinct would do the trick.

She took a deep breath and then, without warning, screamed "Look out!" as she raised her arm to point to a spot behind him.

Clancy automatically pivoted, holding his gun out in front of him. MacGyver took the opportunity to bring one of the weights down hard across the man's wrist, sending the weapon clattering harmlessly to the floor. He jammed the other weight into Clancy's gut, causing the hit man to fall backwards, gasping for breath. One final shot to the jaw and the man was unconscious.

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Hours later, MacGyver sat on the front stoop of Challengers. Dusk had fallen and the club members had headed home. Moments after Clancy had been subdued, officials from various agencies had descended on the club like a swarm of killer bees. Pete had already called to inform Mac that the assassin was in custody and providing authorities with enough information to permanently neutralize HIT. He was lost in his own thoughts when he felt Joanna's hand lightly squeeze his shoulder.

"How're you doin'?" she asked.

"I should be asking _you_ that," he replied, reaching up to take her hand and gently eased her down beside him. "You did a really good job in there, but you did have me worried when you started comparing him to Murdoc. That could have gone south really quick."

Jo shrugged. "I took a calculated risk. I figured if I was going down, I'd go down swinging. I'm pretty sure I learned that from you."

MacGyver remained silent as he fiddled with the audio cassette tape he had found on Clancy that had captured Murdoc's evil laugh one last time.

"I guess I finally believe that he's dead," he murmured.

A tall man in a dark suit approached. "Excuse me, sir, but I need that for evidence."

Mac wordlessly relinquished the tape. The weight he had carried for almost two decades lifted from his shoulders only to be replaced by a strange sort of sadness.

"Tell me about him," Jo requested softly.

"Huh?"

"Murdoc," she clarified. "Tell me about him."

Mac scrubbed his face with his hands. He had worked so hard to shield Joanna from the exact person she was now asking about. What could he say?

"Murdoc worked for HIT as a contract assassin who spent approximately fifteen years trying to kill me."

Jo shook her head. "That's what he did, I want to know who he was. There must have been something special about him to have affected you so deeply. Besides trying to kill you, that is," she concluded with a smirk.

MacGyver sighed thoughtfully before speaking again.

"He was highly intelligent, very creative, and had a really twisted sense of humor."

"Kinda sounds like you," Joanna observed.

"Maybe, if he had made a few different life choices, we could've worked for the same side."

"So then you don't believe he was inherently evil?"

"I did. For awhile. But then he came to me. Told me he had a sister who was in trouble and asked for my help."

"And you gave it," Jo surmised.

Mac nodded. "We worked together to rescue her, only she had no idea who Murdoc really was. That was his doing. His way of protecting her from his enemies. She never knew he was her brother. While we were trying to get to her, I could feel the pain inside him. It was then that I knew he was capable of unconditional love even if he didn't realize it himself."

"So he wasn't pure evil," she concluded.

"No," Mac replied. "But I think he always saw himself that way and acted accordingly. I bet he never even had a funeral. Every man deserves at least that." Mac's voice was husky now and he allowed Jo's warm hands caressing his back to comfort him.

"Sounds like you two may not have been that different after all."

MacGyver let himself chuckle at this. "If you would have said that ten years ago I would have unequivocally denied that. But now...I guess you could say we're more like opposite sides of the same coin."

"And you miss him."

"I wouldn't go _that_ far!" Mac exclaimed. "But no man should die believing he's evil and unlovable. Not even Murdoc."

Jo laid her head on his shoulder, still rubbing his back, and he reveled in her love and understanding.

"He must have been a very lonely man," she mused.

A lump formed in MacGyver's throat. "I suppose he was."


	21. Saving the Dude Ranch

**Saving the Dude Ranch**

Joanna carefully balanced two glasses of ice cold lemonade in her hands as she used her elbow to slide MacGyver's patio door closed behind her. She set the drinks on a small, wrought iron table which also held the cordless phone and watched as Mac tossed an old tennis ball across the backyard and Frog gave chase. She smiled at his odd, bow-legged lope as he retrieved the ball and returned to drop the slobber-covered toy at Mac's feet. His master rewarded his effort with a hearty ear rub.

"Why don't you two take a break?" she called as she sat down in a lawn chair next to the table.

MacGyver turned and graced her with a smile which she automatically returned. He retrieved a fresh bowl of water for Frog before joining her at the table and taking a sip of his own drink. It was a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon which they both surprisingly had free from Challengers thanks to the large number of community volunteers. It felt good to be together, just the two of them, away from work and responsibilities on this lazy summer day.

"You know, pretty soon it's gonna be a year since the law firm forced us into becoming emergency foster parents and our licenses are gonna expire. Do you plan on re-upping?" Mac asked.

Wow, that question had come out of left field!

"I actually haven't thought about it. What are _you_ planning on doing?"

"After the situation with the Talbot kids I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea."

"You have a good point," Joanna conceded, taking a long drink of her lemonade before staring off into the distance, knowing that now was as good a time as any to bring up what had been weighing on her mind lately.

"Do you want kids of your own, MacGyver?" she asked softly.

"I've already got one," he chided playfully.

"Sam's an adult. I was thinking of the younger variety."

"I don't know," he replied as Jo saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye. "Years ago the idea was always in the back of my head, but when Sam showed up I guess I stopped thinking about it."

"Well, you better _start_ thinking about it," Jo replied a bit more harshly than she intended. "If you want a bunch of baby MacGyvers you're gonna need to stop hanging out with me and find someone to help you with that."

"You're kidding, right?" Mac asked, his voice full of disbelief.

Joanna stared straight ahead and shrugged even as a shiver slid down her spine. She felt awkward talking about this, but she didn't want him to have any regrets if he decided to stay with her.

"Jo, what are you trying to tell me?!" There was a hint of panic in his voice. Was she using this as a way to back out of their relationship?

"Let's face it, Mac. I'm not getting any younger. You can still have children. Me, not so much." This time she turned and looked him in the eye.

"And I'm perfectly okay with that," he replied, his voice both gentle and firm. "I always figured if we wanted kids we'd adopt. Rather than bring a new one into this world I think I'd rather help out the ones already here."

"Mac, did you hear what you just said?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. But before either of them could say anything the telephone rang.

MacGyver grabbed the handset and clicked onto the call.

"Hello? Hey, how's it going?" He got up from his chair, offered Joanna an apologetic smile, and slipped into the apartment for some privacy leaving her to mull over what she had just heard. He had used the words 'we' and 'kids' in the same sentence as naturally as breathing!

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"Sorry to interrupt your Sunday, but me and Neil didn't know who else to call."

"What's goin' on, Chuck?" Mac asked, his voice serious. It had been a while since he had seen his two best friends from Mission City and was now concerned about what had prompted the call.

"Remember Mark Bennett from high school?"

"Yeah," Mac replied thoughtfully. "Didn't his folks own a farm just outside of town."

"Yep. They sold it to Mark and his wife, Linda, when they retired and moved to Arizona. Mark and Linda turned it into a dude ranch."

MacGyver could hardly contain the laugh that tried to escape.

"A dude ranch?! In Minnesota?!"

"I know it might sound a little corny, but it was actually doing quite well up until recently."

"Why? What happened?"

"Ya know that old abandoned hospital? Well, some big Japanese electronics company bought it and turned it into a state of the art factory that opened about a month ago."

"What does this have to do with the ranch?"

"The factory offers great pay and benefits that Mark couldn't match. He lost almost half his employees to it and he didn't have that many to begin with."

"That's too bad, but why are you telling me this?"

"Mark's got a big group coming in this week. We've been asking friends and neighbors to volunteer some of their time to help out. I remember you used to hang around your grandpa's farm as a kid and you know your way around horses so I just thought…"

"That I'd drop everything and come help at the ranch."

"Well, yeah! I guess."

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to sigh. "Things are different now, Chuck. I have responsibilities."

"You mean you have to clear it with the little woman."

MacGyver could practically see Chuck's smirk over the phone line. "There is no 'little woman'," he replied firmly.

"Hey, sorry man! It's just that Neil told me you showed up at the reunion with a real special lady. I just assumed…"

"Well, you assumed wrong! Listen, let me think about this and I'll call you back later."

Mac hung up the phone before his friend could say anything else. He returned to the patio where Joanna was tossing Frog's ratty old ball.

"Who was that?" she asked absently.

"My friend, Chuck, from back home."

"The one who owns the sporting goods store?"

"Yeah, that's him," Mac confirmed before relaying their conversation to Jo.

When he had finished explaining everything his friend had told him, Joanna finished the remainder of her lemonade in one long gulp and rose from the chair.

"Well, I better get out of your way so you can pack," she announced.

MacGyver's hand snaked out and grabbed her arm.

"Wait a minute! You're okay with this?"

Jo looked at him, a bit stunned. "Of course I am. It's what you do, right?"

"Right. I mean, I used to, but," Mac shut his mouth to stop the stuttering.

"Don't worry about it," she laughed lightly. "Cynthia and I will make sure everything's covered at Challengers. In fact, I'll take Frog over there right now. You go do what you have to do."

Mac wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"Of course," she shrugged playfully. "But it's nice to hear once in a while."

Not knowing when he'd get another chance, he slowly lowered his head to hers until their lips met in a tender caress.

"I'm gonna miss that," he told her in a husky voice.

"Me too," she replied softly before clipping Frog's leash to his harness and leading him out the gate.

XXXXX

Mac tossed his last pair of clean jeans into his duffle and was ready to call it a night when he heard a knock on his front door. There, grinning like a Cheshire cat, stood Jack Dalton.

"Hola mi compadre!"

"Jack, what are you doin' here?" MacGyver moaned, knowing that even though he didn't mean to, Jack always managed to bring trouble his way.

"Can't an old buddy drop in to see how another old buddy is doing?" he asked innocently.

"Not when one old buddy lives two thousand miles away!"

"Au contraire! I just flew a couple of fat cats into the Windy City for a convention and thought I'd cruise on up."

Mac popped his head out the door to find a flashy red sports car parked in the driveway.

"She's a beauty, ain't she? High end rental," Jack announced as if reading his mind.

"You can't afford that!"

"Big tips! One of the perks of the job!" the pilot exclaimed as he eased his way into the apartment. Tossing his ever-present aviator cap on the kitchen counter he caught sight of MacGyver's bag

"Going somewhere?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, I am," Mac replied succinctly. "And no, you cannot stay here while I'm gone."

"In that case, I'll come with you."

"Don't you have clients you need to take back to L.A.?" MacGyver asked, not even trying to hide the frustration in his voice.

"Huh?...oh, them...they're catching a flight out of O'Hare for Tokyo day after tomorrow and my schedule just happens to be clear. So, where're we goin'?"

Realizing he was stuck with Jack like green on grass, Mac flopped down on his couch and began to explain.

"Do you remember Mark Bennett from high school?"

"Mark Bennett...Mark Bennett," Jack rolled the name around on his tongue. "Was he ever in the market for a fake ID?"

"I don't know," MacGyver groaned. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Sorry, I'm all ears."

"Mark and his wife, Linda, run a dude ranch outside of Mission City. They're a little short-handed this week so I'm going up to help out."

"Sounds like a blast! When do we leave?!"

Mac sighed. "Jack, what do you know about ranches?"

"What's there to know?! Campfires, s'mores, singing Kumbaya with cute cowgirls." Jack waggled his eyebrows.

"I meant _horses_ , Jack. _Horses_."

"No problemo! I learned everything I need to know about equines from my uncle Charlie!"

"Uncle Charlie?!" MacGyver shook his head in disbelief. "You're thinking of horse _racing_! Your uncle was a con who used to rob your piggy bank!"

"So?"

Mac squeezed his eyes shut already regretting what he was about to say.

"Fine, Jack. You can come. It's a long drive so we leave at first light."

XXXXX

It was early afternoon the following day when MacGyver drove his Jeep up a long, gravel driveway and parked next to a sprawling ranch house. Three women stood on the porch exchanging hugs before the younger two skipped down the stairs to a battered pick-up truck. The remaining woman was tall with curly red hair and looked to be about six months pregnant, though Mac was no expert in that area. He hopped out of the Jeep and headed to the porch with Jack on his heels.

"Excuse me! Could you tell me where I could find Mark Bennett?" he asked, keeping his tone light and friendly.

"He's out grooming one of the trails," the woman replied. "But I'm his wife, Linda. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Name's MacGyver. This is my friend, Jack Dalton."

"Of course! Chuck said you'd be arriving today, but I thought you were coming alone?"

"Slight change of plans," Mac explained with a forced smile as Jack climbed the steps, doffed his aviator cap, and brought Linda's hand to his lips.

"A pleasure to meet you, ma cherie."

It was all MacGyver could do to not roll his eyes, but Linda seemed to find the gesture amusing as she giggled before inviting them in.

"I'll give you a tour of the house and by then Mark should be back to show you around the grounds. As you can probably tell, we've done quite a bit of remodeling," she called over her shoulder to the men who followed her slightly waddling gait. "We downsized the living room to serve as the lobby and expanded the dining room to accommodate the maximum number of guests."

"Do all your guests eat here?" Mac asked as she guided them into a large country kitchen.

"It depends," Linda answered airily. "Each cabin has a small kitchenette since eating out isn't exactly a prime option in this neck of the woods. We're prepared to provide three meals a day for everyone."

"So, exactly how many is 'everyone'?" Mac inquired.

"We have five cabins that can house up to five people, so when we're booked, that's twenty-five guests."

"And you're booked for this week?"

"Yep! The first family arrives Wednesday. We should have a full house by Thursday evening."

Jack let out a whistle through his teeth.

"Couldn't have said it better myself!" Linda quipped with a smile as she continued the tour. "Back here are the bedrooms for Mark and me and the household staff. You two'll be in the bunkhouse with the rest of the guides and ranch hands. There's a kitchen in there as well and the foreman likes to think he's a chef so you won't have to worry about going hungry."

"So how many employees do you have?" MacGyver asked.

"Depends on how busy we are. Thanks to you and Jack and other volunteers, the ranch care and activities are all covered. I have three housekeepers coming in, but unfortunately, you just saw half of my kitchen staff leave when you pulled up. They got full time jobs at the new factory," Linda frowned.

"Then there are only two people to cook for everyone," Jack concluded after doing some quick mental math.

"Yep. Just me and Ellie."

"Don't you have anyone else to help out?" Mac asked.

"Nope. Not on short notice like this. But we'll get by. We always do!"

They had returned to the lobby in time to see Mark striding toward the house. MacGyver greeted him enthusiastically and then introduced him to Jack.

"I remember Jack," Mark smiled. "By reputation, mostly. I never found myself in need of a fake ID!"

The three men shared a laugh before Mark led them to the bunkhouse. The wooden structure was well built with all basic amenities. Bunk beds lined one wall while the rest of the area consisted of a small kitchen and dining area as well as a corner with a TV and a few comfy chairs.

"You two can bunk here," Mark said.

"Thanks," Mac replied, tossing his duffle on the lower mattress.

"Hey, why do I have to take the top bunk?" Jack complained. "I get airsick!" His left eye twitched.

"You're a pilot, Jack. You _don't_ get airsick. Besides, I'm the one afraid of heights, remember?"

"All right," Jack grumbled as he hoisted up his luggage. "But if I fall out of bed and break my neck it's all your fault."

XXXXX

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly as Mark first took his two new volunteers on a tour of the guest cabins randomly spaced amongst large pine trees. They were relatively new buildings made to look old and rustic but with all the comforts of home. He and Mac then saddled three horses and the trio checked out one of the shorter, easier trails available for guests to ride with a guide. MacGyver noticed Jack holding the reins a bit too tight and shifting uneasily in the saddle whenever his horse twitched.

"You doin' okay, Jack?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah. Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" Jack's wide eyes were glued to the dirt path ahead and his knuckles were turning white as one hand now gripped the saddle horn and Jack tilted precariously to the side as his horse adjusted its gait to the terrain.

Mac reached out, grabbed Jack's sleeve, and righted him on his mount.

"You've got to squeeze him with your knees," MacGyver instructed. "Make sure he knows you're up there and that you're in charge.

"In charge. Right," Jack repeated a bit breathlessly.

"Now loosen your grip on the reins. The horse knows where he's going and you're confusing him," Mac coached.

Jack slackened his grip completely, but the well-trained horse continued to plod evenly down the trail. MacGyver shook his head, wishing yet again that he had listened to his gut and left Jack back in Milwaukee.

After they had returned to the ranch and tended to their horses, the three men and Linda sat down to a hearty meal she had prepared in their absence.

"Tomorrow I'll show you guys the other trails we use," Mark said in between bites of his wife's delicious stew. "Today I took you on the one we use for kids and beginners. The 'bunny slope' so to speak. The others are much more interesting."

" _Interesting?!"_ Jack croaked as he almost choked on his sip of iced tea.

"And more challenging," Mark added with a cheeky grin.

"Um, I was thinking," Jack hedged. "Maybe it would be better if I stayed behind and learned how to do some of the other things around here. Ya know, maybe muck out the barn or something?"

"You? Muck horse stalls?" Mac looked at his friend with both suspicion and concern.

"Yeah! You got a problem with that?!" Jack responded a bit more defensively than necessary.

"No way. Suit yourself," Mac answered evenly, slathering butter on a hot biscuit and smiling to himself. Go figure, Jack Dalton was afraid of riding horses!

The conversation continued to center around the ranch and it wasn't long until the subject of the kitchen staff, or lack thereof, came up again.

"You shouldn't be working so much," Mark gently scolded his wife. "I'm sure if we look hard enough we'll find somebody."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Linda replied. "Ellie and I spoke earlier and planned a very simple menu."

"But still…"

"Hey! What about Joanna?" Jack eagerly suggested.

"Joanna?!" Three voices echoed back.

"Who's Joanna?" Linda asked.

"She's Mac's...um...well, it's kinda hard to explain," Jack replied.

"She's a friend of mine," MacGyver replied succinctly.

"A _very good_ friend, if you get my drift," Jack added with a wink.

Mark and Linda exchanged hopeful glances. "Do you think she'd come?" Mark asked.

MacGyver's first instinct was to shut down this idea immediately. Jo didn't deserve to get caught up in his problems, or those of his friends.

"Jo's covering for me at Challengers," he replied, hoping that would end the discussion.

"C'mon Mac!" Jack exclaimed. "You and I both know Cynthia could run Challengers on her own with one arm tied behind her back. Can't you just call Jo and see what she says?"

MacGyver knew he was fighting a losing battle with his friend. He also knew that Joanna would never forgive him if he refused to ask her for help she might be able to provide.

"Fine. I'll give her a call," he relented as Linda pointed to the telephone mounted on the wall next to the oversized refrigerator.

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Joanna guided her car up the long driveway and parked to the side of the large ranch house. Except for MacGyver's Jeep, the place looked to be deserted even though it was mid-afternoon. As she stepped from her vehicle, she inhaled the combination of fresh cut grass, hay, manure, horse sweat and smiled. Her friends in the city would probably think she was crazy, but the earthy smells of the ranch soothed and grounded her. She had been so jealous that Mac had been invited up here, but she hadn't let on, knowing she had her own duties at Challengers. However, after receiving MacGyver's call last evening she could hardly wait to arrive. Ever since she had been a little girl she had dreamed of living on a farm, preferring livestock to people. Even though she was here to help in the kitchen, she was bound and determined to enjoy her surroundings.

She had just raised her face to the warmth of the sun when she heard the front door to the house open with a soft creak. A pretty redhead with an extended belly stood on the porch and waved to her.

"You must be Joanna!" she called. "Grab your things and come on in!"

Jo did as she was told and soon found herself back on the front porch sitting in a white wicker chair and sipping a glass of ice water.

"I didn't expect it to be so quiet around here," she observed as Linda reached for her own glass of lemonade.

"Consider it the calm before the storm. Forty-eight hours from now we won't have time to breathe."

"Speaking of which, shouldn't I be learning my way around the kitchen?"

Her hostess literally waved off her question. "There'll be plenty of time for that. Life moves slower out here. None of that big city rush. Besides, it's much more fun to make a new friend."

Linda's warm smile immediately endeared the woman to her.

"Where are the guys?" Jo asked, looking toward the stable area.

"Mark took Mac to check out a couple of the riding trails our guests will be using. They won't be back for a few hours yet."

"What about Jack?"

"Last I heard he was laying down clean straw in the horse stalls."

Joanna's eyes went wide with surprise. "I thought he'd be out riding with Mac?"

"They all went for a trail ride yesterday," Linda said, her eyes gleaming with mirth. "Let's just say I think it gave Jack a new perspective…a very _high_ perspective!" The two women giggled at the thought of Jack's fear of horseback riding before Jo sobered.

"I shouldn't laugh," she confessed. "My mom's the same way so I know how he feels. I'm just glad he can still make himself useful."

"Oh, don't worry about that. We can never have too many extra hands! Now, why don't you tell me how you and MacGyver met?"

"It's kinda a long story," Joanna hesitated, her head spinning at the quick turn of direction the conversation had taken.

"Like I said, we got nothin' but time, for now anyway."

Jo spent the next several minutes trying to condense the events from the time Mac had saved her from falling off a stool at the now-defunct Challengers Academy to now.

"So you two are quite the item, huh?" Linda asked with a smile before taking a sip of her cool drink.

"What makes you say that?"

"Weren't you listening to yourself just now? Besides, when Jack brought up your name at supper last night, Mac got the same look on his face that Mark gets on his whenever he looks at me and Junior, here. I know two people in love when I see them."

"Yeah, well, we're taking things slow. _Really_ slow," Jo responded, a bit unsure why she felt the need to defend the pace of their relationship. The heat of a blush began to blossom and she decided to turn the tables. "So, you and Mark met in high school?"

"Oh, no," Linda laughed. "Mark is several years older than me. Besides, I was born and raised in St. Paul. In college I had gotten an internship at a big marketing firm where Mark was already halfway up the corporate ladder. We hit it off and the rest is history!"

"Is this your first?" Jo nodded toward her new friend's belly.

"Yep! We had finally settled into married life and were thinking of starting a family when the Bennett's retired and we decided to move up here and take over the ranch. After eight years of putting all our energy into this place, I finally put my foot down and told Mark it was now or never if he wanted to have a little cowpoke. No way am I havin' a kid after I turn forty, you know what I mean?!"

Joanna summoned a smile and nodded, recalling the similar conversation she had with Mac a couple days ago. Before the two women could say anything more, a familiar voice floated around the side of the house.

"So there we were, high above the Pacific Ocean, both engines on fire with no land in sight when-Oh! Hiya Jo!"

"Hi, Jack," she greeted him, a pretty young housekeeper at his side. He whispered something in her ear, making her giggle before she turned and headed back to one of the cabins.

"What can I say?! The ladies love a pilot!" he boasted. "Aren't Butch and Sundance back yet?"

Linda glanced at her watch. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. "I guess we really did lose track of time! They should be back soon. Jo, let's go start dinner so you can get familiar with the kitchen."

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Mark and MacGyver guided their horses around the final bend in the trail that ended in the pasture just beside the barn. Mac's stomach did an odd little flip of happiness when he saw Joanna's car parked next to his. Once their mounts were groomed and fed, the two men headed into the main house to find Linda and Jo working companionably in the kitchen, preparing a light supper. Soon the two couples and Jack were sharing the meal and engaging in light-hearted conversation. MacGyver was pleased to see Joanna relaxed and laughing. Upon Mark's recommendation, everyone went to bed early as their first guests of the week were due to arrive tomorrow.

Just before noon on Wednesday, a green mini-van pulled into the drive and a man, woman, and twin pre-teen girls emerged. The Donaldson family. They received a warm welcome from their hosts as ranch hands emerged from the bunkhouse to deliver their luggage to the cabin they would call home for the next several days. Insisting that they were planning on providing their own meals and entertainment, Linda gladly sent them on their way with a map of the grounds which included hiking trails and directions to "secret" fishing holes. The remainder of the day kept the staff busy preparing for the Schultz family scheduled to descend upon the ranch the following day. Ranging in age from seven to seventy and spanning three generations, the family had indicated on their reservation form that they would be taking advantage of all the food and entertainment services available. They were obviously the reason the Bennett's needed as much help as they could get. It was nearly twilight before MacGyver had a chance to slip out of the stables with some snacks for the horses grazing in the paddock. As he rounded the corner of the building he saw Joanna standing by the split-rail fence, stroking the blaze of a pretty little chestnut mare. He watched as Jo lowered her hand, only to have the horse nip at her shoulder. Joanna's girlish giggle carried on the soft summer air as she resumed caressing the mare's muzzle. Mac smiled as he pulled out his Swiss Army knife and cut one of the apples he carried into wedges.

"Here," he said, approaching Jo. "Try this."

Jo put the wedge of fruit in the palm of her hand and offered it to the mare who gently took it between her velvet lips, chewed, swallowed, and nickered for more.

"What's her name?" she asked MacGyver.

"Missy."

"Well, Missy, you're incorrigible, you know that?" Joanna teased the mare as her friends, spurred by the presence of a sweet treat, gathered along the fence.

"You're really good with them," Mac complimented her once the apples and carrots had all been eaten and the horses resumed munching on the grass.

"I wish I knew more about them," she shrugged.

"You love them and respect them. That's an awful good start."

They stood in companionable silence watching the horses graze and frolic until pinpricks of starlight studded the now-black sky. After exchanging tender kisses and whispered farewells they returned to their respective quarters to prepare for the busy days ahead.

Morning came way too quickly for MacGyver and his counterparts who spent the day tending to the horses as well as the seemingly never-ending influx of Schultz's. Every now and again he would catch a glimpse of Linda, Joanna, and Ellie setting out the cold buffet lunch or family style dinner they had prepared for the guests. Mark had sent Jack out with a bucket, work gloves and trowel to gather any stray stones from the riding trails that may have appeared since their last grooming leaving Mac to help out wherever he was most needed until he was summoned to his friend's office late that evening. Mark was slumped in a chair behind his desk when MacGyver knocked softly on the already open door.

"Mac, thanks for coming. Please have a seat." Mark motioned to a well-worn leather couch on the opposite wall as he came around to lean against his desk.

"I take it this isn't a social call?" MacGyver ventured.

"Unfortunately not," Mark replied. "Consider it more of a preemptive strike."

Mac's tired eyebrows shot up. "That sounds interesting."

"I'll cut right to the chase," Mark began. "Grandpa Schultz signed up the entire family for a trail ride tomorrow."

Mac quickly did the calculations in his head. "That's twenty people!"

"Including children," Mark sighed. "Our limit on any ride is ten. Generally less if there are kids."

"Aw man…"

"But, he did sign a waiver stating he understood our policies and the risks that going against them may incur. He also signed waivers to use the black diamond trail and not require helmets."

Mac winced at the ski term reserved for the most challenging slopes. "Are they nuts?"

"Maybe. More importantly, they're rich and used to having their own way," Mark stated. "Unfortunately, he has his mind made up and all the proper paperwork has been filed. To top it off, they're all novice riders."

"That's where I come in?" Mac asked, getting a feel for what his friend was going to ask him.

"Yeah. There's no way I'm taking them on a half-day ride on our most difficult trail alone. I need you to have my six."

"You got it! What time do we leave?"

Early Friday morning MacGyver joined all available ranch hands to help saddle and assign the horses to their riders. The youngest, seven-year-old Timmy, would be riding Missy, the chestnut mare that Joanna had grown so fond of. She was small, gentle and predictable, and Mac was going to be sure to keep the boy close to Mark at the front of the line with the older, and hopefully somewhat more experienced, riders toward the back.

With the ride scheduled to begin at nine o'clock, the Schultz family gathered outside the stable at promptly eight-thirty to review the rules and riding tips Mark made sure everyone heard before mounting up. Unfortunately, Mark was nowhere to be found. With each passing minute, the riders grew more restless. MacGyver was just about to go to the house to see what the hold up was when he saw Mark and Joanna walk out the front door and head toward the eager group, their faces full of concern. He politely excused himself from the Schultz's and met them halfway.

"What's wrong?" Mac asked without preamble.

"It's Linda," Mark replied. "She's been sick all night and now she's worried about the baby. So am I. We have an emergency appointment with her doctor in Mission City this morning."

"You take care of Linda," MacGyver instructed. "I can handle the trail ride on my own."

"Thanks Mac," Mark said, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But I can't let you do that."

"What other option is there? I doubt the Schultz's would take kindly to rescheduling."

"There is one option," Mark replied, looking at Joanna.

"Her?!" Mac exclaimed as if Jo wasn't there.

"Yes, _me_!" she bit back, taking offense to the tone he had used.

MacGyver scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Jo, but you don't have much more experience than most of these riders. It's too risky."

Mark reached out and grabbed a grey gelding he introduced to Joanna as 'George'.

"Look Mac, you told me Jo has a way with horses, and I know she has a way with you as well. You'll make a great team and ole George here has done this a hundred times. He'll take care of both of you."

"I don't know…" Mac waffled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Look, it's either me or Jack," Joanna said firmly.

MacGyver's eyes met hers and his gaze softened in an attempt to convey a silent apology for his earlier reaction. He knew she could sit a horse well enough, and he knew these horses were trained and docile. And he could use another hand in case something went wrong.

"Alright," Mac capitulated. "But we'll take it nice and slow...for everyone's sake."

Mark breathed a sigh of relief before he went to address the group and Mac and Jo mounted up. With MacGyver in the lead and Joanna bringing up the rear, the group set off to the trailhead single file. Mac took a deep breath before guiding his charges into the woods.

An hour and a half into the excursion, many of MacGyver's initial concerns had been seemingly put to rest. The Schultz contingent turned out to be much more level headed and friendly than he anticipated, and they took direction well. Only a few times had he heard Joanna call out reminders to keep the horses on the smooth dirt path or ride single file and he had done the same. Now they had come upon a grove of trees with a natural spring.

"Okay everybody, let's stop here for a while."

Saddles creaked as riders dismounted. Some older riders groaned, already getting a little saddle sore. Mac couldn't help but grin.

"Lead your horses over to the spring and let them drink. I suggest you do the same," he instructed. "The facilities are behind the trees. We won't be stopping again until lunch."

"Don't you mean the facilities _are_ the trees?" Joanna asked, already standing by his shoulder with George in tow.

"Nope," Mac smirked. "Go ahead and have a look. I'll take care of ole George here."

Jo headed toward the clump of trees he indicated while the family broke off into small groups to chat about their experience so far and some took advantage of the snacks Ellie had packed in their saddlebags. He had just begun leading the horses away from the water when Joanna emerged from the woods shaking her head.

"Port-a-Potties?! Really?!"

MacGyver smiled widely. "Only the best for Bennett Ranch guests! You see, people like to think they're roughing it without really, well, roughing it!"

"And I, for one, appreciate that policy!" Jo teased.

It wasn't long until they were back on their way. Some riders had fallen out of order, but they had all proved to be responsible so Mac wasn't worried. There was more conversation and laughter as everyone relaxed and enjoyed the scenery. MacGyver answered as many questions as he could regarding the area and pointed out spots of interest that Mark had introduced him to the other day. With the summer sun high in the sky, the trail opened out into a wide meadow sooner than Mac had expected. Once again, he told the group to dismount and take their horses to a large, clear stream for a drink. With that chore accomplished, boxed lunches, once again courtesy of Ellie, were removed from saddlebags and the family once again broke off in groups to share their meals. Mac and Jo unloaded feed bags with oats, carrots, and apples and tended to the horses before settling down with their own food.

"Everything goin' okay back there?" Mac asked, just as Joanna took a bite of her chicken salad sandwich.

"Hmm,mm," she confirmed before swallowing. "From what Mark said I was afraid there'd be trouble."

"I'm certainly not gonna complain," Mac promised, leaning back on his elbows and tilting his face to the sky. When Joanna finished eating, she did the same.

"This sure is a beautiful spot," she commented softly.

"Yep," he agreed. "Probably the best on this trail." He recalled another lovely spot Mark had shown him not far from the ranch. Hopefully he would find some time to take Joanna there...just the two of them. But right now the Schultz's were packing up the remains of their lunch, eager to get back to their ride.

The second half of the trail wove in and out of shady woods, sun splashed meadows, and gurgling streams that seemed to follow them wherever they went. The hills were a bit steeper, the path narrower than before. Mac made sure to set a comfortable pace for the horses as well as their riders. None too soon they came upon their final resting site before returning to the ranch. Now used to the routine, the group of riders dismounted and watered their horses without MacGyver's instruction before tending to their own needs. Everyone had spread out, some to take pictures of the landscape, others to stretch their legs. Joanna approached Mac as if drawn by a magnet.

"I think we're gonna make it," he said, sliding his arm around her shoulders after stretching out his own back.

"I don't suppose the Bennetts have a hot tub hiding somewhere?" she asked as he felt her muscles flex under his hand.

"I doubt it," he replied. "But don't worry, you'll feel a lot worse in the morning!"

"Oh, thanks a lot!" she grumbled.

Suddenly, from somewhere in the trees, they heard the sound of branches snapping, a panicked whinny, and a high-pitched shriek. Mac, Joanna, and several of the adults charged into the woods in the direction of the noise. Several yards away they saw Timmy sitting on the ground, tears rolling down his cheeks while the mare he had been riding had her reins caught in a tree branch and was refusing to put any weight on her hind right leg.

"You check on Timmy," MacGyver directed Jo, "And I'll take care of the horse." He saw myriad emotions quickly play out across her face as she looked at her favorite little mare before heading towards the boy.

In no time the area was packed with well-meaning relatives and Joanna was in the middle of the chaos. When she finally made her way back to MacGyver it was to tell him that Timmy was fine, just a little shook up and more worried about the horse than himself.

"And well he should be," Mac muttered, holding back the seething anger that roiled in his gut. "He knew better than to take her off the path."

Joanna reached out and gently touched his forearm. A calming source just when he needed one the most.

"How is she?"

"I'm not sure," he sighed, holding onto the reins he had just finished untangling. "I think she might have a stone in her shoe, but I'm more concerned about the gash on her fetlock."

The couple's gaze fell to the mare's lower leg where blood streamed onto the mossy ground. When they looked up it was to find Grandpa Schultz and Timmy approaching.

"Terrific," Mac muttered under his breath. "They're probably gonna find a way to blame us for this and a lawsuit would kill the business."

"Mr. MacGyver, my grandson here has something to say to you."

Mac and Jo exchanged curious glances before giving the boy their full attention.

Timmy kept his eyes averted, "I'm sorry, Mister. I know I wasn't supposed to take Missy off the trail, but I thought she might like some shade. Everything was fine until I tripped over an old dead log and yank her reins too hard. She reared and…"

"Wait a minute," MacGyver interrupted, letting go a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "You weren't riding her?"

The boy shook his head and looked up cautiously. "Is she hurt?" he asked meekly.

"Yeah," Mac replied, refusing to sugarcoat the situation. "I'm just not sure how bad."

"Is there anything we can do to help out?" Schultz asked.

MacGyver looked to where the family had gathered a short distance away.

"I'd really appreciate it if you could get everyone back to the trail. I need to get the mare outta here and the less people around, the better. She's spooked and in pain."

The older man immediately headed back to his clan and took charge as MacGyver quickly and skillfully removed Missy's saddle.

"What do you need me to do?" Joanna asked softly from behind him.

"Missy knows and trusts you. You can help me get her back up on the path where I can take a closer look at that wound. Give me your blouse."

Without question, Jo shrugged out of the lightweight cotton shirt she wore over her tee. Mac took it and together they began to approach the injured horse, murmuring encouraging words to her all the way. Once Joanna had grabbed the mare's reins, Mac slowly lifted the shirt and wrapped it around the horse's eyes to blindfold her so she would need to rely on them to lead her out. It was tough going as the mare struggled not to use her injured leg, but eventually, with Jo's and Mac's hands gently yet firmly guiding her, all three made it back to the trail. MacGyver carefully removed the blindfold and handed it to Jo.

"Take this to the stream and get it cold and wet. And grab the first aid kit from my saddlebag," he instructed.

He crouched down and examined the mare's leg more closely as he waited for Joanna to return. It was bleeding much heavier than he would have liked. Sooner than expected Jo was handing him the cold, wet cloth. He gingerly began to wipe the blood away. He was hoping to use the gauze pads and tape in the emergency kit as a bandage, but the bleeding was too heavy. Instead, he tightly wrapped the shirt around the mare's leg to create a pressure bandage. He then got out his knife, lifted the injured hoof, and selected a tool to dig out the stone he found lodged in her shoe.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Joanna asked, concern shadowing her face.

"I hope so," Mac sighed, even as he saw fresh blood already seeping through the cloth. "At least we're three-fourths of the way home. I'll take Timmy up with me, you bring up the rear with Missy. Take it slow and easy."

"Okay everybody! Time to get movin'!" Mac called as everyone mounted up. He swung Timmy up on his horse before climbing on himself and watched as Joanna mounted George and grabbed Missy's lead, waiting for everyone to be on their way before she began the trek.

They hadn't traveled very far before Jo called out to MacGyver.

"Mac, you better come back here!"

He quickly dismounted, but instructed the others to remain in the saddle.

"What is it?" he asked, but he answered his own question when he looked down to find the mare's makeshift bandage saturated with blood that was now leaking onto the ground.

"Aw man," he said, scrubbing the back of his neck. "We gotta find a way to stop the bleeding."

"Any ideas?"

Mac jammed his hand into his pant pocket and wrapped it around his ever-present knife.

"Just one. I can try to cauterize the wound, at least enough to keep the bleeding manageable until we can get back, but it'll take time and I'll need your help."

"What about them?" Joanna nodded toward their guests. "The trail's well-marked. Should we send them on ahead?"

Mac shook his head. "Ranch policy says guests must not ride this trail without a guide. If anything happens, there would _really_ be trouble."

Not knowing what else to do, MacGyver headed over to speak with Grandpa Schultz. After relaying the guidelines they needed to follow and what needed to be done to the horse, the family elder ordered everyone to dismount and promised to keep them occupied while Mac and Joanna took care of Missy.

As Jo worked to soothe the horse and keep her calm, MacGyver went back into the woods to find some twigs and kindling. He soon had a small fire started a few feet down the path. As the flames grew, he placed his open knife on a rock to allow the flames to heat the steel blade. When he was satisfied it had grown hot enough, he kicked dirt onto the fire to extinguish the flames and then, wrapping his hand in Joanna's damp, blood-stained shirt, picked up his knife and headed back.

"Okay, stand off to the side and hold onto her lead and try to keep her still," he instructed. "But let her go if she bolts. Trying to pin her down would be more dangerous for all of us."

Jo did as he asked, stroking the horse's muzzle the entire time. Mac let his hands run lightly over the horse's wither, side and flank to reassure her before crouching down by the bleeding fetlock. He could picture many outcomes, most ending with a hoof in his face. He silently prayed she was too tired and weak to fight him and then set to his task before the blade of his knife cooled off. He took a deep breath and firmly applied the flat piece of metal to the cut on the mare's leg. The smell of blood and burning flesh caused bile to rise in the back of his throat. A few peaceful seconds passed before Missy reacted, sidestepping away from him before yanking the halter lead out of Jo's hand. She hobbled down the path as fast as she could before stopping, her twitching body shiny with sweat.

"Go back to where I left her saddle and get the blanket," Mac said.

He slowly approached the frightened animal and, once Jo gave him the saddle blanket, he began to rub her down, all the while speaking in low tones and making sure she could see him. After several minutes, the mare became calmer than she had been since the accident and was actually putting more weight on her injured leg. Cautiously optimistic, MacGyver examined her wound once again. Though some blood still seeped out, most of the gash had been sealed. It wasn't pretty, but it would have to do until they could get back to the ranch and call for a vet.

Mac stepped up behind Joanna and began kneading her neck and shoulders, the knots there belying her calm, confident demeanor.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Jo asked, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"Yeah," Mac nodded with a smile. "She's gonna be okay."

XXXXX

When they arrived back at the ranch an hour later than expected, a controlled chaos erupted. Ranch hands were dispatched to tend to the horses while MacGyver told Mark everything that had happened. Much to everyone's surprise, Grandpa Schultz offered to cover all the vet bills since the injury was his grandson's fault. Once the horses and guests were taken care of, Mac and Joanna headed to their separate quarters to shower and change before supper.

That evening's meal was a casual affair. After getting cleaned up, Mac and the other ranch volunteers built a huge bonfire and set out bales of hay at a safe distance as seating for their guests. Once everyone was settled, including the Donaldson family who had decided to join in the festivities, Linda, Joanna, and Ellie emerged from the house carrying trays loaded with hot dogs, buns, various condiments and homemade potato salad. Everyone burst into cheers in anticipation of the weenie roast...and the s'mores making which was sure to come later. MacGyver caught Jo's eye and motioned her over to where he sat. She gave him a tired smile and plopped down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her close.

"Tired?" he asked, and felt her nod against him.

"How's Missy?" she asked.

"The vet says she'll be fine. He said we did a good job given the circumstances. How's Linda?"

Joanna raised her head. "She's basically fine, as well. The doctor said her blood pressure is slightly elevated, most likely due to the stress she's been under. He ordered her to start taking it easier with the threat of three months bedrest if she doesn't."

"Sounds like Mark's gonna have a battle on his hands," Mac said drily, earning a laugh from Jo.

"What about Mark?" the ranch owner asked as he headed toward them carrying two plates laden with food.

"Just that you're gonna have your hands full if you expect Linda to take it easy," MacGyver explained as he eyed his supper warily. "Do you have any idea what's in these things?" he asked, poking at his hot dog.

"No. And I don't think I want to!" Mark laughed, patting Mac on the shoulder before heading back to his wife.

MacGyver had a fork load of potato salad headed for his mouth when an all-too-familiar voice called out.

"Hola, Kemosabe and maybe-hopefully-soon-to-be Mrs. Kemosabe!"

"Hi Jack," Mac and Jo answered in unison.

"Heard about your little adventure today, pal. Trouble just seems to dog ya!"

If that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black, MacGyver didn't know what was, but before he could open his mouth to protest his friend continued.

"Look what I found in the bunkhouse." Jack produced and old acoustic guitar from behind his back. "Perhaps you could grace us with some dinner music?"

"Fat chance!"

"Aw, c'mon Mac!" Jack whined. "I know you don't like to play in front of people, but what would a campfire cookout be without a sing-a-long!?"

"Quiet?"

" _Exactly_! And we can't have that now, can we?!"

"Apparently not," Mac muttered.

As guests and staff alike finished their meals, made s'mores, or just relaxed around the fire, MacGyver grabbed the guitar and began to pluck out the notes to "Home on the Range." Soon everyone was singing along and he played a few more songs that he figured both adults and kids would know. It didn't take long before voices began to fade and the events of the day caught up with everyone. Small groups began to excuse themselves and head back to their cabins. Those remaining helped clean up before turning in themselves. Soon MacGyver found himself alone. Warmed by the fire and looking up at the stars, he leaned back against the hay bale he was sitting on, cradled the old guitar, and began to play the quiet strains of a piece he had composed himself and titled "Eau d'Leo". The last time he had played that song had been over a year ago on New Year's Eve when a blizzard had stranded the Thorntons, Joanna and him at a B&B in Door County. It was there that he told Pete he had feelings for Jo. The corners of his mouth tugged upward at the memory.

"Whatcha smilin' about, cowboy?" Joanna asked as she settled next to him.

"Nothin'," he lied as he went to set the guitar aside.

"No, don't," Jo commanded, putting a staying hand on his arm. "Keep playing. Please? I love that song."

"But you've only heard it once," he pointed out skeptically.

"Well, it made a strong impression on me." She smiled and then snuggled against his side.

Repositioning the instrument, he started playing from the beginning, wishing it never had to end.

XXXXX

Late Sunday morning, the Bennetts, MacGyver, Joanna, and Jack waved good-bye as the final members of the Schultz family drove away.

"I hate to do this, Mark," Mac said when the car was out of sight, "but we really need to get going, too. I'm sorry we can't stay longer and help out."

"Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?" Jack asked.

"When I took Linda to her doctor's appointment on Friday I was approached by the leader of the high school's 4-H Club. They've decided to make the Bennett Dude Ranch their summer project. We're gonna have all the help we'll ever need!"

"That's great!" MacGyver said. "But what about when the baby comes? The kids'll be back in school."

"Things always slow down a lot by then," Mark explained. "Besides, while we were in Mission City I also heard some rumblings that some of our former employees aren't enjoying their high paying factory jobs as much as they thought they would. Any ranch hand worth his salt can't stand to be cooped up, standing over an assembly line for twelve hours a day. I have a feeling I'll be doing some rehiring over the next few months."

After exchanging handshakes, hugs, and farewells, the trio from Milwaukee headed toward their cars.

"Hey, Jo! I'll drive your car if you wanna ride home with Mac," Jack offered.

Joanna sent MacGyver a panicked look that made him laugh.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "Jack drives better than he flies."

"Ya know, Mac. If you keep complaining about my piloting skills I'm gonna have to ban you from my plane!"

"Promises, promises…." Mac whispered in Jo's ear causing her to giggle as he slung his arm across her shoulders and guided her to the Jeep.


	22. A House Divided

**A House Divided**

MacGyver stood on the front stoop of the Fairfax home. A bouquet of wildflowers in one hand, he knocked on the door with the other. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the sweet scents of the warm summer day.

"I got it!" Joanna called from inside and he smiled at the lightness in her voice.

"Hi there," he grinned when she appeared in the doorway. She wore a white tee and black shorts and looked carefree and wonderful. His heart did a little flip.

"Oh, you shouldn't have!" she exclaimed, reaching for the flowers he held.

"I didn't," he confirmed, pulling them away. "At least not for you. These are for your mom."

Joanna wrinkled her nose playfully. "You don't have to butter her up, you know she already loves you!"

Mac shrugged as Judy Fairfax appeared behind her daughter. "You could at least invite the poor man in!" she admonished.

Jo's cheeks flushed slightly and she stepped aside, allowing MacGyver to enter the small foyer attached to the living room. Before he could say anything, Judy Fairfax had him wrapped in a motherly hug.

"It's been too long, Mac! I've missed having you around!"

"I've missed you too, Mrs. Fairfax, but things at Challengers have been keeping me pretty busy."

"You know to call me 'Judy'," she scolded, "And I know that my daughter has also been keeping you busy, but I won't complain about that!"

As he followed Jo and her mom through the house to the backyard where Joe Fairfax was putting supper on the grill, he could feel the love and support that made this house a home. Joanna was the third generation to live here and, as an only child, one day it would belong to her. Would he be sharing it with her?

Mr. Fairfax greeted him with a hearty handshake as his daughter beamed. Mac knew how much this little family meant to Jo and his heart swelled knowing they had unconditionally welcomed him into their ranks, even if he _did_ tend to go AWOL with their daughter at times!

Dinner was a casual affair filled with easy conversation and light-hearted banter. Jo and Mac regaled her parents with stories from their time at the ranch which awakened memories of the family's first trail ride which brought even more laughter as Judy expressed her horror at how tall her horse was and bemoaned the fact that it wiggled and twitched.

After dessert was eaten and the dishes were cleared, the small group adjourned to the living room where Joe tuned the television to a baseball game, sans volume, but still earned a scowl from his wife which made Mac chuckle. Dusk fell as conversation continued and MacGyver became loath to return to his empty townhouse. Suddenly, a car in desperate need of a muffler roared up the street and pulled to a screeching halt in front of the Fairfax home. Joanna's mother was out of her chair and looking out the bay window before Mac could blink.

"Jude, would you just settle down," Joe complained as his wife partially blocked his view of the TV screen.

"That's the third time this week that car's been around here," Judy protested. "And here comes the other one!"

Joanna rolled her eyes. "Ma, would you just sit down and mind your own business?!"

Ever curious, MacGyver joined Judy at the window.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"These two cars pull up, just sit there for awhile, and then speed off. I think it's a drug deal," Judy informed him.

"Could be," he muttered. Even though the Fairfaxes lived in one of the safest sections within the city limits, crime did not discriminate. "Let's call the police."

"By the time they get here it'll all be over," Judy protested. "I'm not gonna take this anymore!" She pushed off the window sill and charged through the front door before anyone realized her intentions.

MacGyver was the first to gather his wits and, with long strides, quickly caught up to Jo's mom who was halfway across the front yard, headed toward the offending autos.

"Get out of my neighborhood!" she yelled, stalking purposefully toward the vehicles.

Mac glanced at the car parked closest to them. As the occupant rolled down the window, MacGyver saw a ray of light from a nearby streetlamp glint off of what he immediately recognized as the muzzle of a gun.

"Get down!" he cried as he lunged through the air, placing himself between Joanna's mom and the weapon, pulling her to the ground with him at the same time. He felt a white-hot heat slice through the side of his abdomen before landing on the soft grass, his head hitting something hard before everything went black.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joanna and her dad had been watching the scene unfold from the front steps when the flash of a gun firing sent them running toward the two crumpled forms on the lawn as the cars sped away. Neighbors quickly emerged from their homes to see what the ruckus was all about and commands to call 911 quickly filled the night air.

With tunnel vision brought on by blind panic, Joanna fell to her knees and rolled MacGyver's large form off her mother's much smaller one. Both were covered in blood, but her mom was already struggling to sit up as neighbors came to her aid. With Judy insisting that she was fine and her husband now by her side, Jo turned her focus solely to MacGyver. He had a long gash on his temple where his head had connected with a decorative garden rock when he fell, but of more immediate concern was the dark stain flooding his shirt. Instinctively, Joanna pressed on the ragged wound with the palms of her hands in hopes of staunching the blood that flowed freely through her fingers and onto the already dewy grass. Her next door neighbor took off his own T-shirt and handed it to her. She took it wordlessly and pressed it to Mac's side, holding her breath until the wail of sirens began to draw near.

Moments later, the once peaceful street erupted in chaos as paramedic and police units arrived. Firm but gentle hands grasped Jo's shoulders and pulled her away from MacGyver's prone, unconscious body.

"Let them work," a soothing female voice told her as paramedics began to tear away Mac's shirt and evaluate his injuries.

"You need to give us your statement, ma'am," that same voice said. "What happened here?"

"Mac. I have to stay with Mac. I can't leave him. I can't run."

"There's nothing you can do for him now, ma'am. Please come with me."

Joanna connected the voice to that of a female police officer and reluctantly allowed herself to be led to a quiet corner of the yard before her knees buckled and she sunk to the ground once again.

"Are you injured as well?"

Jo followed the officer's concerned gaze to the bright red stain on her shirt. Blood. Mac's blood. She shook her head in reply.

"Then tell me what happened."

Joanna mechanically chronicled the events of the evening, all the while attempting to catch glimpses of MacGyver which the officer deftly blocked, much to Jo's frustration. However, when she finally saw the gurney being lifted into the back of an ambulance she stood up.

"I have to go with him," she declared.

"I'll have an officer take you to the hospital when we're done here."

"I _am_ done," Jo firmly informed the woman, and headed toward the ambulance.

She had only taken a few steps before she was intercepted by a taller, stronger male officer. She was about to protest when a grandmotherly neighbor she had known most of her life wrapped comforting arms around her waist.

"We need to get you cleaned up, child," the elderly woman said. "You can't show up at the hospital looking like that!"

Her mind slowly beginning to clear, she looked down at the stain on her shirt as well as the sticky blood now drying on her hands. The adrenaline from earlier was quickly leaving her system only to be replaced by the chills and dizziness of shock. With the woman's arms supporting her, they went into the house where she was quickly divested of her soiled clothes and wrapped in a warm blanket while her hands were scrubbed clean in the kitchen sink. Feeling physically improved, she went upstairs to pull on jeans and a clean top. When she returned to the living room where the remaining neighbors and emergency personnel now gathered she found herself pulled into her mother's arms.

"I need to go to him," Jo murmured.

"I know, baby," Judy replied, stroking her daughter's hair.

"Don't call me that!" Joanna cried, jerking out of her mom's grasp. Mac called her 'baby'. Only Mac could call her that!

"Maybe you should wait until tomorrow, after you've had some rest," Judy suggested, her eyes full of concern.

"No!" Jo shook her head emphatically. "I have to go now!"

"Then at least have your father drive you."

Joanna capitulated since arguing would only keep her from getting to Mac. Father and daughter rode in silence. Joe dropped her off at the emergency entrance where she promised to call with any news before hurrying through the automatic doors and into the antiseptic environment of the hospital.

"I'm here to see MacGyver," she said without preamble upon reaching the front desk. "He was brought in a while ago with a gunshot wound and head injury."

"Are you a relative?" the young receptionist asked.

"No, but-"

"Then I'm sorry, you'll just have to have a seat."

Joanna closed her eyes and took what she hoped would be a deep, calming breath, but it didn't work.

"Isn't there anything you can tell me about his condition?"

"No ma'am. I'm sorry."

Jo was trying to decide whether to scream or cry when a petite, dark-haired woman of Asian descent approached her.

"Excuse me," she said gently. "I heard you ask for MacGyver. What is your name?"

"Joanna. Joanna Fairfax," she replied, staring blankly at the woman in scrubs.

"I'm Wendi Vang, a trauma nurse here. I believe you and Mr. MacGyver used to work with my husband, Lee."

Jo's mind sputtered as she tried to process what the kind-looking woman had said. Then it finally clicked.

"Yes," she responded on a sigh of relief. "He's helped us out on a couple of occasions. Can you tell me anything about Mac?"

"Come with me," Wendi instructed quietly.

Together they walked to the nurses' station where she quickly logged onto a computer.

"These new privacy laws stink," she said for Jo's ears only. "And I'm afraid they're only going to get worse. Anyway, MacGyver was immediately rushed into surgery and is there now."

Joanna's breath hitched at the news as Wendi's well-trained fingers flew over the keyboard.

"I put your name on his chart as the main contact person. Make yourself as comfortable as you can and I'll see to it that you receive any information on his condition as soon as it becomes available."

"Thank you," Jo whispered as tears held at bay too long threatened to fall.

Wendi stepped beside her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"From what Lee has told me, you and MacGyver have a very special relationship. It's only right."

Joanna nodded and sank down in a cushioned vinyl chair to wait. It seemed like an eternity before Wendi Vang appeared, this time with a small smile on her face.

"Mac is out of surgery and in recovery. The doctor said the bullet went straight through and missed all his organs and major arteries. He lost a lot of blood, though, and that will slow his recovery. Plus, he has a pretty bad concussion."

Flooded with relief that MacGyver would survive, Jo let out an exhausted giggle. "A concussion is nothing new for him. He'll be fine."

Wendi's smile disappeared as she sat down in the chair next to Joanna's.

"I'm afraid that's the doctor's main concern at this point. MacGyver's charts show a history of head trauma. With each injury, his chances for a full recovery decrease."

"What exactly are you trying to tell me?"

"I can't really say anything. A neurologist will be working with him and able to give you more details. Right now the important thing is that he wakes up, and the sooner the better."

"When can I see him?"

"They'll be moving him to a private room within the hour, but I can take you there now, if you like."

Joanna simply nodded and before she knew it she was standing in the doorway of an empty hospital room on the fourth floor. Wendi grabbed the attention of the head nurse.

"This is Joanna Fairfax. She'll be staying with Mr. MacGyver."

Joanna had just walked over to a large window that looked out over the lights of the city when she heard Wendi's voice again.

"Just put it over there," she ordered.

Jo turned around to find two orderlies positioning a reclining chair with footrest where Wendi indicated.

"I figured you'd want to stay the night so I thought we could at least try and make you comfortable."

"You sure have a lot of pull around here for a trauma nurse," Joanna observed with a thin smile.

"You mean I have a lot of pull around here for a trauma nurse whose husband is a lawyer and willing to represent doctors _or_ patients," she laughed warmly.

After thanking Wendi for all her assistance, Jo surveyed the sterile room, her eyes coming to rest on a telephone sitting on the nightstand. Even though it was late, she had some calls to make.

"Hello," Judy Fairfax answered in a brisk tone.

"Hi Mom, it's me,"

"How is he?"

Jo told her mother what Wendi had told her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to send your father to pick you up so you can come home and rest?"

"Yeah, Mom. I need to be here."

Judy sighed wearily. "I understand. Keep us posted and tell Mac we love him."

Joanna disconnected the call and dialed a different number.

"MacGyver, I swear if this is you calling in the middle of the night to ask me another favor I'm-"

"Pete, it's Joanna."

The man on the line gasped and immediately gentled his voice.

"What's happened to MacGyver?"

"If Sam is there, can you put him on the extension so I don't have to repeat myself? I'm sorry, but it's been a long night."

Joanna heard Pete tell Connie to go wake Sam and as soon as she heard the telltale click indicating Sam had picked up his line she launched into the reason for her call.

"I'm on my way," Sam said as soon as she finished her monologue.

"No, Sam. Get some sleep and drive up in the morning. The last thing I need is for you to get in an accident because you're tired and upset," she instructed.

After a long silence Sam grudgingly agreed. She was just hanging up the phone when a pair of orderlies wheeled MacGyver's bed into the room and locked it in place. She smiled at them weakly before they turned and left.

Joanna lovingly studied Mac's unconscious form, drinking in the sight of him. The harsh overhead fluorescent lights made his pale skin appear gray. A large gauze bandage covered the gash on his temple. She gently smoothed back the long bangs that had fallen over his forehead. Watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, she carefully pulled back the lightweight blanket and thin sheet that covered him to find him shirtless, his abdomen wrapped in sterile dressings protecting the bullet wound. Tucking the covers back over his broad chest and muscular shoulders she finally allowed herself to slump down in the recliner and shed silent tears until she fell asleep.

Jo awoke in the pre-dawn hours when a nurse came in to take MacGyver's vitals yet again.

"Any change?" she whispered hopefully.

The nurse shook her head. "Everything's the same, but his vitals are strong so that's a good sign."

Joanna thanked the nurse for the information and changed positions in her chair hoping to get a couple more hours of rest, but sleep would not come. Instead, her mind began replaying the events of the previous evening. They had all been having such a nice time. Then her mother had to be nosy and look out the window. Then she ran out the door. Then she yelled at the hoodlums. Then she fell to the ground with Mac. Then Mac was shot and unconscious and it was all her mother's fault. If only she had kept her mouth shut. If only she had stayed inside and minded her own business. Anger sparked deep in Joanna's soul and over the next hours became a raging inferno that forced her into a decision she never thought she would have to make.

A soft knock on the doorjamb startled Jo awake. Apparently she had managed to doze off at some point without realizing it. Weak rays of sunlight told her it was early morning. She turned toward the door to find Sam standing there, wide eyes fixed on his father. Rising from her chair, her movement caught Sam's attention and he strode to her and embraced her firmly.

"How is he?" Sam asked, his voice raspy.

"The same." Jo smiled sadly.

Before they could say anything more, a nurse entered the room followed by two orderlies.

"Excuse us, but Mr. MacGyver has an appointment in radiology this morning," she said a bit too brightly for Joanna's taste. "It'll take about an hour so feel to grab some breakfast in the cafeteria."

They watched silently as a still unconscious Mac was wheeled out of the room for what Joanna knew was a brain scan.

"You hungry?" Sam asked after everyone had departed.

"No, but I would like to go home. I know you just got here but would you mind-"

"C'mon," Sam said, keys already in hand. "You'll feel better after a long, hot shower and a few hours of sleep in your own bed."

"Actually I was gonna...oh, you're crashing at your dad's place, aren't you?" she asked deflatedly.

"Yeah. Something wrong with that?"

"No, I was just planning on doing the same thing."

Sam shot her a questioning glance.

"It's a long story," was her reply.

"None of my business," he shrugged easily. "I'll just take the couch."

It was still early when Sam deposited Joanna in her own driveway. Knowing her parents would still be asleep, she quietly slipped in the back door and trudged up the stairs. She had just pulled out her suitcase and began to toss some clothes in it when the telltale squeak of a step forewarned her that she was not alone. Her jaw and fists clenched as she summoned the last of her energy to keep her composure.

"I thought I heard you come in," her mom said softly. "How's MacGyver?"

"The same," Jo replied coldly.

"What are you doing?" Judy asked, noticing the suitcase.

"I just can't be here right now," she answered flatly.

"Why? Where will you go?"

"Mac's. Maybe Challengers."

"But sweetheart, I just don't understand."

"I need some space, all right?" Joanna's frustration was mounting.

"Look, I know you're upset about Mac, but he'll be just fine."

"That's just it, Ma! If it wasn't for you I _wouldn't_ be upset about Mac because he wouldn't have gotten shot and be lying unconscious in the hospital as we speak!"

"Honey, I never thought anyone would get hurt." Judy Fairfax reached out to touch her daughter's arm but Joanna quickly pulled back.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me last night, hearing a gunshot and watching the two of you fall to the ground?!" Jo shot back. "I thought I lost two of the people I love most in this world! I'm glad you're okay, Ma. I really am. But if you had just minded your own business the man I love wouldn't be hurt! I'm sorry, but I just can't be around you right now."

Ignoring the tears pooling in her mother's eyes, Joanna slammed her suitcase shut, hurried down the stairs and got in her car. She saw Judy watching her from the living room window as she pulled out onto the street, but she didn't give her mom a backwards glance. Right now her world was all about MacGyver.

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MacGyver's head pounded, his side ached, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he'd been asleep for a month. He tried to peel an eyelid back, but as soon as a pinprick of bright light hit it he slammed it shut. Ouch! That little experiment just ratcheted up his headache exponentially. Where was he? What had happened to him? He calmed his racing mind and allowed his natural thoughts to fall into order. Then he remembered. He had been visiting with Joanna's family. Her mom had gone outside. He had followed. He saw a gun. He had been shot. That explained the pain in his side. He fell. His head hit something hard. Aw, man. He was recovering from another concussion. After all the blows he had taken to the head, he should have figured that part out sooner. An involuntary moan escaped his lips and set off a cacophony of voices around him. Some were familiar, others not. Before he could sort them out, someone pried his eye open and aimed a blazing light right at it. He winced and pushed his head as far into his pillow as he could trying to escape the offending brightness to no avail. The same procedure was performed on his other eye. He worked his mouth, trying to make words come out, but nothing happened. Suddenly he felt something against his lips. A straw. He began to greedily suck in cool water, but it was pulled away all too quickly. The voices had quieted. He decided to test his own.

"Jo?" he croaked pitifully.

"I'm here, Mac. I'm here. You're gonna be alright."

He felt her warm hand cup his cheek and he leaned into it. He forced his eyes open and met her liquid brown gaze, shiny with unshed tears. Hopefully of relief.

"Your mom…" He hated how weak and hoarse his voice was.

"She's fine, thanks to you. She sends her love."

Mac tried to smile and hoped he succeeded. He saw another figure step up to stand next to Joanna.

"Sam?"

"Hey, Dad! How you feelin'?"

"I've been better," he quipped before turning serious. "How long have I been out?"

"About two days," Joanna told him. "The doctors have been running brain scans and they say everything is normal."

"If they're describing my brain as normal then something must be wrong with it." He summoned enough energy to pull a face, making Sam and Jo chuckle.

A deep, unfamiliar voice interrupted them. "Now that Mr. MacGyver is conscious, he needs to rest," a doctor in a white lab coat informed them. "You can come back in a few hours."

As Joanna turned to leave, Mac reached out and grabbed her wrist with more strength than he thought possible. It was then that he saw the recliner positioned behind her.

"You've been here this whole time?" he asked, his eyes sliding to the chair.

"Most of it," she amended. "Now get some rest and I'll see you later." She bent down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, her lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. He was pretty sure he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

MacGyver slept sporadically over the next twenty-four hours. Each time he awoke it was to find either Sam or Joanna, or sometimes both, watching over him. Initially he wanted to tell them to go away, that he was fine. But he soon discovered he found comfort in knowing that they were by his side.

A few days later, the doctor deemed Mac recovered enough to be discharged. He was sitting on the side of his hospital bed dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt when Sam appeared in the doorway, accompanied by a nurse pushing an empty wheelchair. Time to go home at last!

Sam hovered over MacGyver like a mother hen as they made the short trek from the driveway to the front door. Upon entering, Mac noticed rumpled blankets piled on his couch.

"Haven't you been sleeping upstairs?" he asked his son.

"Nah, that mattress is too hard. The couch is fine."

Mac eyed Sam curiously but decided not to waste his energy pursuing this particular conversation. He gingerly climbed the winding stairs to his bedroom, with Sam close behind. The bed was neatly made and immediately he honed in on the fresh scent of Joanna's coconut shampoo.

"Has Jo been sleeping here?"

"Yeah, sometimes," Sam replied evasively. "We figured you wouldn't mind."

And he didn't. In fact, a secret part of him that he rarely acknowledged thrilled to the idea that Jo wanted to feel close to him when they were apart.

"Where is she now?" he asked.

"Challengers. Cynthia wasn't feeling well this morning. That's why Jo couldn't come with me to pick you up," Sam explained. "Why don't you lie down for a while? She'll probably stop by later and you could use your beauty sleep," he teased.

Mac summoned a weak smile, stretched out on the bed, and fell into a blessedly deep and uninterrupted slumber.

XXXXX

After a few days of recuperating at home under Sam's careful supervision, MacGyver began to grow restless and, much to his son's dismay, decided it was time to head back to work and for Sam to do the same. He had no sooner entered the Challengers Club when he was accosted by teens cheering his return. Joanna and Cynthia hung back, smiling widely, but it was Jo's pale skin and hollow eyes that held his attention and concern.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off and get some rest?" he urged her once they were alone in his office.

"That's okay. I'm fine," she insisted.

He reached out and caressed her cheek. "No, you're not. You've been running yourself ragged between covering here and checking up on me. Let me take you home."

She shook her head vigorously. "I said I'm fine."

Mac knew better than to push the issue, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to keep tabs on her. Something wasn't right and he was going to find out what it was.

MacGyver quickly regained his energy as the days passed and he found himself arriving at Challengers earlier and staying later, just like he used to. And when Joanna wasn't spending time with him at his place she was at Challengers as well, and Mac couldn't help noticing that her car never seemed to move from its reserved space. Late one night, on a hunch that had been growing steadily stronger, MacGyver hopped into his Jeep and headed to Challengers. Sure enough, there was her car, parked exactly as it had been over twelve hours ago.

His unexpected arrival raised the eyebrows of more than one third-shift adult volunteer. He smiled in greeting as he made his way to the staircase which led to the second floor dorm rooms. Word of their shelter services hadn't yet spread so only one door was shut tight. Mac tapped gently before entering. Joanna was lying on her back and from the glow of moonlight coming through the window he could see her open eyes staring at the ceiling. He perched himself on the edge of the empty bed next to hers.

"Wanna tell me why you ran away from home?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," she mumbled.

"Look, I know that you stayed at my place while I was in the hospital and that's okay," he quickly reassured her. "I want you to feel safe and comfortable there. But now you're staying here?"

"I worked later than I planned so decided to crash here for the night."

MacGyver's eyes slid to the suitcase propped up against the wall and back to Jo who was now looking at him. He raised his eyebrows in question and Joanna rolled her eyes.

"You're not gonna leave until I talk about it, are you?" she asked with a sigh.

"Nope," he replied with what he hoped was an encouraging grin.

Joanna sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed so she was facing him.

"Sitting in the hospital room with you the night you got shot gave me a lot of time to think. By morning, I decided the whole thing was my mom's fault and I went home to pack a bag." She then recounted the words she and her mother exchanged.

"And you haven't been home or talked to her since?"

Jo shook her head.

"You do know that the only person responsible for what happened that night is the jerk who fired the gun."

This time Jo nodded, but Mac could tell she wasn't convinced.

"Okay, so you think your mom is nosy. That's just a part of who she is, just like running to the rescue is a part of who _I_ am."

This time Joanna's gaze locked with his.

"Promise me that tomorrow you'll go talk with her and straighten everything out."

"Fine," Jo murmured, her shoulders slumped either in defeat or relief.

"Good. Now that that's settled, let's get some sleep."

MacGyver sprawled out on top of the bed covers.

"You don't have to guard me like some prisoner. I said I'll go home and I mean it."

"Good," Mac confirmed without moving muscle. He smiled when he heard Joanna let out a huff and grumble as she crawled under the covers, her back to him.

XXXXX

Late the following afternoon MacGyver sat tapping a pencil against the top of his desk with no particular rhythm while staring out into the recreation area waiting for Joanna's return. Her bed had been empty when he awoke this morning, both her suitcase and her car gone. A pang of envy hit him square in the chest as he yearned for the chance to go home and speak to his own mother just one more time. Even if only to say goodbye. Joanna and her parents loved and protected each other fiercely and he had been humbled when they opened their lives and their hearts to include him. As if his thoughts had conjured her, Jo came swooping into the room wearing a pastel sundress and a lighthearted smile. She cheerily greeted everyone she passed and looked as if a great burden had been taken off her shoulders. A heavy burden she had carried around needlessly for too long.

"I take it things went well with your mother?" he inquired once he had her attention.

"We had a good talk," she confirmed. "About a lot of things. Everything's going to be fine."

"I'm glad," he smiled. "You know, I never meant to come between you and your mom. I don't want you to feel like you ever have to choose between me and your family."

"I know, and you didn't. This was all on me. I was scared and needed someone to blame, even if it _was_ misdirected."

Mac draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, the one without the bullet hole, and kissed the top of her head.

"So, did the cops ever catch the creeps who started all this?"

"Oh! With everything that happened I forgot to tell you!" Jo exclaimed pulling away from him. "One of my neighbors got their license plate number and they were apprehended a few blocks away."

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah," Joanna sighed. "Now things can get back to normal."

Mac quirked a brow at her.

"Or at least as normal as things can get around here," she laughed

 _ **A/N: Dedicated to my mom who read this and said I "totally nailed" her;) She wouldn't do that in this day and age, but in 1997...oh yeah! And yes, this is how my parents and I talk to each other! Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is most welcome!**_


	23. Mid-Summer Gala

**Mid-Summer Gala**

Sam stepped off the elevator and scanned the large, third floor room affectionately known as the bull pen by his fellow stringers. Flimsy partitions divided rows of computer desks into small cubicles and he soon found his prey tucked away in the far corner staring blankly at her monitor.

"Hey! How's my favorite crime beat reporter today?" he asked cheerily.

"Hi, Sam," Becca replied listlessly.

Rebecca Williams was a freelance journalist who, like Sam, had connections at the Tribune and impeccable references, yet she, like him, had been relegated to the role of stringer until a permanent position opened up. A couple years younger than Sam, she hailed from Kentucky but had moved to Chicago after graduating college in Santa Barbara. A bit short and a little on the chubby side, she generally wore her long brunette hair in a ponytail and her striking green eyes hidden behind glasses. She had been one of the first people Sam had met at the Tribune since she was always there searching for a story. Shy and reserved in the beginning, they eventually struck up an easy friendship. He was like a big brother to her and she was like the girl-next-door to him.

"You sound kinda down," Sam observed. "Maybe this'll help."

He handed her a tall, clear plastic take-out cup and she immediately recognized the bright yellow contents.

"A pineapple Slurpee!" she exclaimed, her face brightening as she took a long pull of the frozen beverage through the straw.

"Better?"

"Not really," she sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"C'mon Becca, talk to me," Sam said as he pulled up a chair next to hers. He made a face when she looked at him strangely. "What?!"

"You're the only person who calls me that," she told him thoughtfully.

Suddenly ashamed that he may have crossed some invisible boundary by calling her by a nickname Sam quickly backpedaled.

"I'm sorry. You should have let me know you didn't like it."

"It's not that," she replied with a genuine smile. "It's just that everyone I know always calls me 'Rebecca'. It's kinda nice that you don't." Her gaze suddenly slid to the floor and her cheeks began to turn pink. Sam suppressed a grin. It had been awhile since he caused a girl to flush.

"You gonna tell me what's bothering you?" he pressed.

"This." Rebecca slapped a square envelope of high quality paper down on her desk. "It's an invitation to the Annual Tri-State Fundraising Gala for Non-Profit Agencies. My editor assigned it to me because all of the other lifestyle writers have other functions to cover."

"So?"

"So, I'm a crime reporter! I don't do 'fluff' pieces. Especially ones that involve getting all dressed up and eating dainty finger foods just to garner inane quotes from people who have more money in their bank account than I'll ever see in my life!"

"It could be fun." Sam tried to sound encouraging as he perused the invitation. It certainly sounded like a dull way to spend an evening, but he thought women liked that sorta thing. Suddenly, he found himself pinned by emerald green eyes.

"I'm glad you feel that way. My editor wants pictures, too, so I told him you'd go as my photographer."

"Whoa! No! No way!" he protested.

"Why not? It could be fun," she responded with a sly smile.

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. He knew he was going to give in. There was something about Becca that made him always want her to see her happy.

"Alright. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."

"It's Saturday night...in Milwaukee. I was kind of hoping you would give me a ride."

"Milwaukee?"

"Yeah. The three states take turns hosting it. Last year it was here in Chicago and the year before that it was in Minneapolis. I thought it would also be a good opportunity for you to visit your dad."

Sam couldn't argue with that, and he appreciated Becca's thoughtfulness, even if it was a means to her beneficial end.

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MacGyver was beginning to hate Mondays. When he worked for the DXS and Phoenix, he could never understand why people dreaded Mondays and looked forward to Fridays. Out in the field, hours blended into days, days became night and then day again. The focus was always on the mission at hand, not which day of the week it was. Since he had settled into a somewhat normal routine, he was beginning to see Mondays in a whole new light. Even though he still worked some nights and weekends, Mondays brought a special, and not very pleasant, feeling. Perhaps it was the pile of phone messages, or the stack of mail, or the ever-present to-do list of things to get accomplished by the end of the week. Yeah, there was just something about Mondays he didn't like and he had a feeling today was not going to be the exception.

Plopping down in his chair, he scrubbed his face with his hands before his eyes landed on a square envelope placed front and center on his desk between the piles of phone messages and bills. A yellow sticky note on the front read 'Don't Forget' in Cynthia's flowing handwriting. Mac sighed and reached for the envelope, carefully extracting a single piece of cardstock.

" _You are cordially invited to the Annual Tri-State Fundraising Gala for Non-Profit Agencies to be held on-"_

Mac's eyes widened and he barreled out of his office and into Cynthia's waving the invitation in her face without losing momentum.

"When were you going to tell me about this?!" he demanded. "It's this Saturday!"

"Calm down, MacGyver," Cynthia replied in her naturally soothing voice. "It was delivered several weeks ago but your mind was on other matters so I RSVP'd for both you and Joanna."

"Does _she_ know?"

"Of course she does. She even bought a new dress for the occasion. Which reminds me, you can pick up your tux from the cleaners on Wednesday."

"What?! How did you even know I _own_ a tux?!"

By now Joanna was peeking around the doorframe, probably to see what the ruckus was about.

"One night when you were working late I went by your place and did a little recon mission. I found it stuffed in the back of your closet," Jo explained.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Mac's angry glare bounced between the two women who at least had the decency to appear slightly remorseful.

"We know how you feel about these things, MacGyver," Cynthia responded, her voice still calm and steady. "Besides, you've had so much going on lately there never seemed to be a good time to tell you."

Mac's anger deflated a bit. "Well, you're not wrong," he conceded. "But from now on remember that tampering with someone else's mail is a federal offense!" He then returned to his office, slamming the door closed so loudly it even made _him_ wince. Yeah, there was just something about Mondays.

After an hour of staring at a spreadsheet on his computer, MacGyver heard a light tap on his door. When no one took the initiative to enter, he got up and opened it himself to find Joanna standing there, looking contrite.

"I'm sorry we kept the invitation from you. We really didn't mean to upset you."

Mac jammed his fingers through his hair. "Nah, I'm the one who needs to apologize. I was way out of line coming down on you and Cynthia like that. I don't know what got into me."

He noticed a small group of teens begin to take notice of their conversation and silently motioned Jo into his office and closed the door behind her. She looked timid and unsure. His heart squeezed. He went to stand in front of her, just close enough so that when he reached out his hands rested lightly on her hips. When she didn't pull away, he moved closer and tightened his grip.

"So, tell me more about this gala," he urged tenderly.

Joanna looked up, her eyes hopeful. "We were actually lucky to get invited since we've only been in existence a few months. I think the Phoenix Foundation might have had something to do with that." She stopped here and smiled a little. "Anyway, it's a great opportunity to meet leaders of organizations like ours as well as donors to aid with financial backing. If we hit it off with the right people, we may not have to solely rely on the Foundation for grants."

"Then I guess dusting off the ole penguin suit will be worth it," he replied with a crooked grin.

XXXXX

Late Wednesday afternoon, while trying to keep his freshly pressed tuxedo wrinkle-free, MacGyver opened his front door to a ringing telephone. Hanging the outfit on the railing of his staircase, he quickly answered the call.

"Hello?

"Hey dad! What's up?!"

"Hi Sam! How're you doin'?"

"I'm good. Listen, a friend of mine here at the Tribune is going to Milwaukee to cover a story this weekend and I'm coming along as the photographer. I was wondering if we could hang out and get ready at your place Saturday?"

"Sure!" Mac agreed, a wide smile on his face. Sam, like him, was pretty much a loner. But unlike him, Sam hadn't made any lifelong friends, not even someone like Jack Dalton. It was good to hear that Sam had a buddy to work with.

"Tell ya what," MacGyver continued, "Why don't you come up in the morning and we'll spend the day together. Joanna and I have an event to go to that evening but I don't want to waste one of your visits."

"I don't suppose your 'event' would be the fundraising gala? It sounds like something Phoenix or Challengers would be invited to."

"Actually it is," Mac replied slowly. "And I bet your friend is covering it, right?"

"Right! Hey, that'll be cool! We can all go together!"

"Sounds like a plan," Mac agreed. "See ya Saturday!"

Saturday morning, MacGyver opened his front door to find his son standing next to...a woman? She wore baggy shorts, a loose-fitting t-shirt, and had her long dark hair pulled through the back of a baseball cap.

"Hi Dad! This is my reporter friend Becca. Becca, this is my dad, MacGyver. But you can call him 'Mac'."

"Nice to meet you, Mac," the girl said shyly as she tentatively held out her hand.

"It's a pleasure," MacGyver replied with a smile, shaking her hand. "Please, c'mon in."

Once inside, Mac noticed his son had a garment bag draped over his shoulder.

"Want me to put that away for you?" he asked. "Wouldn't want your tux to get wrinkled."

"Yeah, sure," Sam replied. "Becca's dress is in there too."

MacGyver took the bag upstairs and removed the pair's outfits. He hung Sam's tuxedo next to his, but upon seeing Becca's dress, his jaw dropped. He held up the yards of white fabric with large blue flowers. Admittedly, he was a typical man and didn't know all that much about women's fashion but, as with art, he knew what he liked, and this wasn't it. In fact, the piece reminded of him of his grandma's old living room curtains. He had always hated those curtains. Feeling oddly protective of the near stranger, he knew he couldn't let her go to the prestigious event in this so he picked up the phone and hit one of two numbers he had on speed dial.

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The ringing of the telephone startled Joanna awake. She groaned. Figuring it was going to be a late night at the gala she had wanted to sleep in this morning.

"Hello?" she answered groggily.

"Jo. I need your help."

MacGyver. This must be how Pete Thornton feels when Mac calls asking for favors in the middle of the night.

"What is it?" she ground out, her throat still dry from sleep.

"Remember I told you Sam and his friend from the Tribune were coming in today?"

"Yeah." She suppressed a yawn.

"Well, his friend turned out to be female."

"Sam's got a girlfriend!?" Jo exclaimed, suddenly wide awake.

"No! I mean, I don't think so. But she brought this dress that's...well...I really need you to come over. It'll all make sense when you see it."

"Fine, I'll be there soon." Joanna shuffled off to shower and dress, wishing Mac would make half as big a deal out of _her_ new outfit later that day.

An hour later Sam introduced Jo to Becca. Though shy and a bit awkward, Joanna took an immediate liking to the young woman.

"Listen," Joanna addressed the girl. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to see what you're wearing to the gala tonight. Since we're all going together I'd hate for our outfits to clash."

Waves of doubt flitted across Rebecca's face before she finally gave into the three encouraging smiles and went up to the bathroom to change.

When the journalist next appeared, Jo couldn't help but gasp. There stood Becca, her hair loose and heavy around her face, her body swallowed up by billows of blue and white fabric.

Joanna turned her head and whispered in Mac's ear, "She looks like she could be a balloon in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade!"

MacGyver nodded grimly. "That's why I need your help," he whispered back.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Becca asked in a sad voice as she teetered in high-heeled pumps.

"I wouldn't say it's _horrible_ ," Sam offered as Jo stepped forward and began plucking at pieces of the material.

"Sam's right," she agreed. "It's just needs a few adjustments." Jo tried to keep her voice positive as she glanced at her watch. Eight hours until they were due to arrive at the gala.

Joanna sat cross-legged on the floor as she folded over the hem that reached the girl's ankles.

"Mac, do you have pins or something to hold this hem up?"

A few seconds later he held a roll of duct tape in front of her face.

"You're kidding, right?" she looked up at him, rolling her eyes when he simply shrugged.

Tearing off a piece of the silver tape, she started tacking up the skirt and then stood to observe her handiwork. Even that little alteration had made a difference. Jo then examined the sleeves that were way too long and poufy and the bodice which was way too blouson. No amount of duct tape could fix this and there wasn't enough time to rip out all the seams and re-sew it to fit.

"It's hopeless!" Becca cried. "I'm not the type of girl who gets all dressed up and goes to charity events! I'm just a big old klutz who can't even pick out a decent dress!" She turned and ran up the stairs, almost tripping as she got to the top.

Joanna turned to find MacGyver and Sam staring like deer caught in a car's headlight, obviously on the verge of panic at the thought of having to deal with a hysterical female. In a way she couldn't blame them, but she knew what she had to do.

"Don't worry, I've got this," she told them before heading after Becca.

By the time Joanna got upstairs, the dress was nothing more than a puddle at the foot of the bed and the bathroom door was closed. She knocked on it lightly.

"Becca? It's me. Can I come in?"

When there was no answer, Jo tested the doorknob to find it unlocked and poked her head into the small room. Becca was bent over the sink already wearing her shorts and t-shirt and splashing cold water on her face. When she noticed Joanna's presence she turned off the faucets and grabbed a towel to dry her face.

"You okay?"

Shaking her head Rebecca perched on the edge of the tub. "I shouldn't have come. This stuff is way outta my league."

"Why did you buy that dress?" Joanna asked gently.

Becca sighed. "I got the assignment on short notice. I ordered it out of a catalogue and even paid extra for next day delivery. I thought it would camouflage _this_." She glanced down at her less-than-perfect figure. "Instead it just makes it worse!"

"I understand. I used to have the same problem," Jo assured her.

"You? No way!"

"Yep," Joanna smiled sadly as she carefully sat down next to Becca. "I had a medical condition that caused me to gain a lot of weight in a short amount of time. I got it under control rather quickly, but the damage had already been done. I thought wearing loose, baggy clothes would hide my curves, but they only made me look bigger. I eventually lost a lot of the weight, but more importantly, I learned how to dress in a way that complements my figure."

"That's great, but how's that gonna help me tonight?" Becca moaned.

"We still have time and I know a few places. Grab your purse," Joanna ordered.

The two women returned downstairs to find Mac and his son sprawled on the couch already engrossed in an old black-and-white movie.

"I'm stealing Becca for the rest of the day. Pick us up at my place," Jo called.

Mac lifted his hand and waved to indicate he had heard her before she turned and walked out the door.

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"Would you stop that!" Mac ordered, swatting at Sam's hands and trying to pull away.

"But you're tie's crooked."

"No, it's not!"

"Fine! Have it your way!" Sam threw up his hands in disgust.

"Thank you! I will!" Mac shot back. "We need to hustle if we're gonna pick up the girls on time."

"Yes sir," Sam replied with a mock salute that lightened the mood and put an end to their senseless bickering.

Half an hour later father and son stood in the Fairfax's living room waiting for their 'dates'. Joanna entered the room first and MacGyver's jaw dropped of its own accord. Somehow she always managed to look beautiful, and somehow she always managed to take his breath away. Tonight she was dressed in a pale yellow satin sheath dress with an ivory lace overlay that fell just below her knees. Strappy, high-heeled sandals accentuated her legs, and she had done something to her bobbed hair to make it extra full and bouncy.

"You look great," Mac told her as she walked up to him with a smile and began to straighten his tie.

"Oh, sure…you'll let _her_ fix your tie," Sam complained.

MacGyver shot him a quelling sideways glance.

"I told you it was crooked," his son smirked.

Sam looked away from his dad just in time to see Rebecca make her own appearance. Neither man could believe this was the same girl they saw earlier. Her long, slightly curled locks had been tamed and captured in a simple up do making her appear taller. She wore an emerald green dress that added extra depth to her eyes in spite of her glasses. The top of the dress was fitted, but not too tight, while the knee length skirt flared out slightly giving her the illusion of an hourglass figure. Sensible yet stylish black flats completed her ensemble.

"What do you think?" she asked, wringing her hands nervously in front of her.

Mac looked at Sam's stunned expression and gave him a little nudge to get his attention.

"Oh...um...you look awesome," Sam stammered before regaining his usual charm.

He walked up to his friend and took her hands in his.

"Who are you and what have you done with Becca?" he quipped, causing the young woman to smile as Mac choked back a laugh.

A short while later, with Joanna seated next to him and Sam and Becca in the backseat, MacGyver pulled the Nomad up to the Pabst Mansion, the historic site chosen for this evening's festivities.

"Very impressive," he observed, not even trying to hide the awe in his voice. "Looks like Flemish Renaissance Revival architecture."

"You have a good eye," Jo complimented him. "Captain Frederick Pabst, founder of Pabst Brewery, had it built for him and his family in the late 1800's. Now it's a national landmark."

The foursome entered through the large, carved front doors and were greeted by a butler standing in the main foyer. Upon inspecting their invitations, he welcomed them warmly and wished them an enjoyable evening. From floor to ceiling, the house was ornate and opulent. Abundant with valuable works of art and antique furniture, it was an overwhelming sight. Small groups of people were scattered throughout the front parlor and gentlemen's study chatting and laughing with food and drink in hand. Other guests strode the long hallways and grand staircase simply admiring the mansion itself.

It didn't take long before a city councilman recognized MacGyver and approached the small group. They exchanged the proper niceties before the discussion turned to Challengers Club. Mac knew that this was one of many conversations he would have that night to promote the club and hopefully secure extra funding.

Once the man left, MacGyver guided Joanna toward the plush dining room, his hand placed lightly on the small of her back. He grinned when he saw Sam copy the gesture. Though he had only spent a small amount of time with Becca, he easily pegged her as the shy, quiet type. What puzzled him was his son's sober demeanor. Normally enthusiastic and talkative, Sam had hardly said a word after leaving the Fairfax's. Come to think of it, neither had Rebecca.

The large dining room table was laden with food and the two couples helped themselves to glasses of punch, dainty finger sandwiches, and mini cream puffs and chocolate eclairs. Once everyone's appetite had been sufficiently satisfied, MacGyver suggested they split up so they could complete their tasks more quickly, emphasizing his request by running his finger along the inside of his collar and grimacing.

"Would you just give it up?" Jo snapped as soon and Sam and Becca were out of earshot. "I see you in buttoned up shirts rather frequently and your tie is not that tight."

"Yeah, but it's still a tie!" he retorted.

Joanna rolled her eyes, causing him to chuckle as he put his arm around her waist.

"Come on," he instructed. "Let's go see and be seen so we can get outta here."

About an hour later, after giving his Challenger's spiel at least a dozen times to prominent potential donors, MacGyver was leading Joanna back to the refreshment table when Sam suddenly appeared beside them, an anxious look on his face.

"Have you seen Becca?" he asked breathlessly.

"No, we thought she was with you," Joanna replied, her brows knitted together in concern.

"She was. We were upstairs and she managed to snag an interview with the mayor. It seemed like it was gonna take a while so I decided to sneak away and take some exterior shots, but when I came back she was gone!"

"Well, people don't just disappear. She has to be around here somewhere," Mac reasoned.

The trio began to scan the crowd when a sudden, high-pitched shriek came from the butler's pantry. They hurried toward the sound and stopped in the doorway to find Rebecca standing on a chair, her face contorted in horror as a man in a maitre'd uniform berated her.

"Madam! I must insist you get down from that chair immediately! It is original to the house, a veritable antique worth much money and you are ruining it with your shoes!"

"I'm not going anywhere until you kill it!" Becca shot back.

"Kill _what_ madam?!"

"The spider! The spider that's on the floor!"

"I assure you, madam, you are quite mistaken. I oversaw the preparation of this room myself and can assure you there are no _spiders_ on the floor or anywhere else for that matter!"

By now MacGyver had eased his way into the small room and, by following Rebecca's line of sight, saw the tiny spider in question. Somehow the fortunate arachnid had escaped the footsteps of the waiters, but his luck had just run out. Mac grabbed a small cocktail napkin from a nearby counter, reached down and squashed the little fellow even as he felt a pang of guilt.

"Alright Becca, you can come down now," he assured her. But the young woman did not move.

Sam reached his hand up to her. "Come on, Becca. You heard my dad. The spider's gone."

In a daze of shock, the young woman mechanically grabbed Sam's hand and allowed him to help her climb down from the chair. Once on solid ground, she wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest and began to sob. Sam was soothing her as best he could when she pulled away without warning, looked at him as if _he_ were a spider, and bolted from the room.

Sam exchanged a perplexed look with his dad. "What just happened?" he asked before both men turned helpless gazes toward Joanna.

"What?" she asked defensively, knowing full well what they expected her to do. "You want me to go after her, right?"

They both nodded.

"Because I'm a girl and I understand these things?"

Again they nodded, Sam's puppy dog eyes boring into hers and Mac's imploring smile melting her heart.

"Fine," she replied firmly, pulling herself up to her full height and squaring her shoulders before leaving the room in Becca's wake, albeit at a more sedate pace.

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Joanna followed the path she assumed Rebecca had taken, peeking in each room she passed, but the girl was nowhere to be found. On a hunch, Jo opened the front door and stepped out on the large porch to find Sam's friend sitting on the top step, her knees pulled up to her chin, her face in her hands, and her shoulders trembling with sobs.

"Mind if I join you?" Jo asked before slowly lowering herself onto the step. She rubbed soft, comforting circles on Becca's back and waited for the tears to stop.

Finally, the young woman raised her head, face flushed and mascara smeared.

"I made such a fool of myself back there," she moaned, and Joanna was afraid she'd start crying again.

"No you didn't," Jo assured her. "A lot of people are afraid of spiders. You've heard of 'arachnophobia' haven't you?"

Becca shook her head. "That doesn't even begin to cover it. I have arachnophobia to like the one-hundredth degree! I didn't get you kicked out of the party, did I?"

"No. Everything's fine," Joanna promised and hoped she wasn't lying.

"I'm just so embarrassed! Sam'll probably never wanna look at me again!"

Aha! So this was about more than just spiders!

"No way! In fact, Sam's the one who asked me to come look for you. He's worried about you."

"Then why didn't he come find me himself?"

"Because everybody is scared of something, and I think Sam has a phobia about crying girls," Jo chuckled and Becca offered her a watery smile.

"You really like him, don't you?"

Rebecca nodded shyly. "What's not to like? He's kind, thoughtful, handsome, charming. But…"

"But you don't think a guy like him would be interested in a girl like you," Joanna surmised.

"How did you know that?" Becca asked, looking at Jo with something akin to awe.

"'Cause I felt the same way about his dad. Sometimes still do, actually. I'm constantly amazed that a man as well-traveled and experienced as he is could ever be content with a girl who's lived in the same place all her life."

"So, you think there's a chance that Sam could like me too?"

"I do."

"Then why has he been acting so strange tonight?" Rebecca frowned.

"How do you mean?"

"He's hardly said a word to me all evening and he totally bailed on me when I was interviewing the mayor."

"Didn't you see the way he looked at you when he first saw you tonight?" Jo smiled. "I think he was a little shocked by your transformation. You went from being the girl next door to Cinderella. Guys have a hard time processing that. And as for him not talking? Anyone who can render that boy speechless has to be pretty special."

Rebecca's only response was a grin and a thoughtful sigh.

"Tell you what," Joanna continued. "Why don't we get you freshened up and then we'll get outta here."

"I can't go back in there looking like this!" Becca protested.

"Don't worry. I saw a back entrance that the staff uses. We can sneak in that way."

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MacGyver strode toward Sam who was standing in the main foyer.

"I can't find them anywhere!" he said, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"They're sitting on the front steps talking," Sam replied quietly.

"Then why aren't you out there?"

"I didn't want to interrupt."

"Since when?!" Mac didn't wait for his son to answer but instead grabbed him by a lapel and led him to a dark, empty corner. "What is with you tonight anyway?" he asked in an exaggerated whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ my usually charming, talkative kid has hardly said a word all night! Now, what gives?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and lowered his gaze to his shoes.

"You like Becca!" MacGyver proclaimed.

"Of course I do. She's a nice girl," Sam muttered.

"You know what I mean. I saw the way you looked at her earlier, and I also saw the way she looked at you."

"There's nothing going on between us, Dad."

"Do you want there to be?"

Sam sighed. "I don't know," he moaned, running a hand through his hair. "Becca's a really great girl but I'm afraid I'll end up hurting her."

"How so?"

"What if I get bored at the Tribune? What if I decide I want to travel? Try new things?"

"What if you ask Becca out for a cup of coffee or a burger and go from there?"

"I guess I am kinda puttin' the cart before the horse," Sam admitted. "Did you ever feel like this with Joanna?"

"Sam, you know I did. But we cared enough about each other and our relationship to work through those things together. Now why don't you go out there and butt in like you normally do!?"

Sam laughed as he opened the front door and stepped out onto the large porch, but the women were gone.

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Sunday morning MacGyver and Joanna stood in the doorway of his townhouse waving good-bye to Sam and Becca. Once their car was out of sight they walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch.

"You look beat," Mac observed.

"Gee, thanks," Jo responded, pulling a face. "Becca kept me up half the night talking about the gala...and Sam."

"I know the feeling. Sam slept like a log."

When Joanna shot him a questioning look he laughed and explained, "A log being cut in half by a chainsaw. Man, that kid can snore!"

"Do you think we'll see her again?" Joanna asked soberly.

"If Sam has his way I'd say we can count on it. He's gonna ask her out on a real date when they get home."

"Really?! That's terrific!" Jo exclaimed before becoming oddly silent.

"You're worried about something. What is it?" MacGyver probed.

"Is Sam really serious about her, or was it just the fancy night and pretty dress?"

"Well, the dress sure didn't hurt," Mac replied, recalling the effect Joanna's own appearance had on _him_. "But Sam knows his feelings. I think he would've asked her out sooner but he's afraid he'll end up hurting her."

"Do you think he will?"

"Not on purpose. I told him to just take things slow and not give up too easily."

"Sounds like good advice," Jo praised. "Are you speaking from experience?"

"You know I am. I guess only time will tell...for all of us."

 **A/N: Thanks to my friend and fellow fan fic writer, Sanguine, for letting me borrow 'Rebecca'. I hope I did you (and her) proud!**


	24. Heat Wave

**Heat Wave**

Joanna sat back on her heels and tossed the ragged sponge into a bucket of dull, gray water which had been clear and soapy when she began scrubbing one of the dormitory's bathroom floors thirty minutes earlier. She stretched her back muscles as rivulets of sweat trickled down her neck, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Has the air conditioner stopped working?" she asked.

Cynthia, who had been cleaning the toilets, laughed ruefully. "It better not have! A lot of people are counting on it."

Milwaukee was in the second day of what was predicted to be a week-long heat wave with temperatures in the nineties and high humidity. Thanks to their networking the weekend before, the mayor had asked MacGyver and Joanna to make Challengers an official shelter and cooling station until the dangerous weather released its grip on the city. That meant a lot of foot traffic and strangers coming and going twenty-four hours a day.

"Besides," Cynthia continued, "MacGyver could fix it in an emergency. That is, after he talks the firemen into opening the hydrant so the kids can cool themselves in the water."

Jo smiled sadly. Poor Mac. So many people relied on him, yet he hardly ever relied on anyone. Even her.

"What do you say we break for lunch?" Cynthia suggested.

"You don't have to ask _me_ twice!" Joanna snapped off the protective rubber gloves she had been wearing and scrambled to her feet before the other woman changed her mind.

Back in Cynthia's office, Joanna frowned.

"Have you seen my ring?" she asked.

"What ring is that, dear?" Cynthia inquired absently while shuffling through a pile of messages.

"The sapphire one I always wear. I took it off and left it on your desk."

"It must be around here someplace then," the older woman replied. "It surely didn't grow legs and walk away."

Joanna was about to commence her search when the main door slammed open followed by a wave of giggles. Curious, she and Cynthia quickly headed toward the noise. When she saw the cause she stopped dead in her tracks. MacGyver stood in the doorway soaking wet. His hair slicked back and his t-shirt and jeans clinging to him like a second skin accentuating his firm, athletic build.

"They opened the fire hydrant," he announced with an adorably crooked grin.

He glanced around the room until he pinned Joanna with his gaze. She felt a flush bloom on her cheeks, embarrassed that he had caught her staring at him. But his eyes gleamed with mischief and his grin widened just for her.

"Lucky I keep a change of clothes upstairs," he said as he went to step into the room.

"Don't you move!" Cynthia admonished. "I don't want you dripping all over my clean floor. I'll go get you a towel."

A few minutes later, Mac was vigorously rubbing his shaggy hair with one towel before using another to remove as much moisture from his clothes as possible before Cynthia allowed him to go to the dormitory and change.

When the commotion had died down, Joanna returned to Cynthia's office to resume the search for her ring. Once certain that the piece of jewelry was not on the desk or hidden under a stack of paperwork that had accumulated during the morning, Jo dropped to her hands and knees to begin a thorough search of the threadbare carpet when a masculine voice from behind startled her.

"Looking for something?" MacGyver asked, leaning casually against the doorframe clad in fresh, dry clothes.

"No! I mean, I thought I dropped a paperclip," she sputtered.

"Ah," came his reply, the tone telling her that he would accept the lie...for now.

Joanna was surprised when the fib came so easily to her. But then again, she was more than a little embarrassed that she may have lost one of her most precious possessions due to her lack of responsible behavior. She figured she would be cleaning today, yet instead of keeping the ring in her jewelry box, she slipped it on her finger out of habit. Now it was gone. Presumably lost as she balked at the thought that anyone at Challengers would trespass in Cynthia's office and steal it. Yet, Rosie Garcia had been in and out all morning to deliver messages and other paperwork. But Rosie would never do something like that!

"Cynthia said you guys were taking a break. Wanna go grab something to eat?" Mac asked, breaking through Joanna's thoughts.

"Sure," she replied half-heartedly as she considered the whereabouts of her ring.

"Great! Come on," he said, spontaneously grabbing her left hand and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Hey, you're not wearing your ring today," Mac observed.

Joanna shrugged. "I knew we'd be cleaning today and I didn't want to risk damaging it so I took it off." At least _that_ wasn't a lie and MacGyver accepted her explanation without question.

They were headed out the door when Raul Garcia rushed in.

"Ma! Ma! The ice cream truck is here! Can I have some money?!"

"Mijo! Slow down!" Rosie scolded. "You're not a little boy anymore. And what happened to the money from your allowance?"

Jo watched as the young teen's gaze dropped to the floor.

"I kinda spent it all," he mumbled.

"Ack! What am I going to do with you! You need to learn the value of a dollar!"

"I'm sorry, Ma." Raul looked up now. "I'll do better next week, but can I _please_ have some money before the ice cream truck leaves?"

Mac and Joanna grinned as Rosie shook her head even as she removed her purse from the drawer she always kept it in. Finding her wallet, she opened it up only to frown.

"I could've sworn I had more cash than this," she lamented, handing a couple of singles to her son. "I just went to the bank a few days ago!"

"Maybe you need to watch your money better, too," Raul replied cheekily before barreling out the door to buy his treat.

"I do not understand…" Rosie muttered.

"Maybe you stopped somewhere and picked up something you weren't planning to," Jo suggested. "It happens to all of us!"

Rosie summoned a smile. "I suppose you must be right. What other answer could there be?"

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MacGyver and Joanna returned from lunch to find Cynthia standing on the front steps of the club, speaking with a police officer.

"Excuse me, is there something wrong?" Mac asked, approaching the cop.

"And you are?" the man in the dark uniform asked.

"Name's MacGyver. I'm the director here at Challengers."

The other man extended his hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you. I'm Officer Hill. I was just informing Ms. Wilson that we will be running extra patrols past your club for the next few days. People tend to get a little crazy when it gets this hot. I also think you should know there's been a rather significant rise in gang activity in the area, so please don't hesitate to call us if you see anything out of the ordinary."

"Will do. Thank you, officer," Mac said warmly, the two men shaking hands once again before the policeman returned to his car.

"So, who are the popular gangs around here?" he asked, turning to Joanna.

Jo raised her eyebrows in response. "I'm hardly an expert," she began sarcastically, "But the Latin Kings were the main players last I heard."

"Good to know," Mac replied with a smile before heading inside.

The afternoon sun bore down relentlessly as Challenger members and volunteers helped prepare for the expected influx of people seeking relief from the heat. Joanna and Cynthia finished cleaning while MacGyver and a couple of older boys carried in large cases of bottled water and huge bags of ice. Rosie collected donations from people in the community who offered everything from box fans to brownies. As the sun descended in the western sky, people from all walks of life began to file in seeking a comfortable place to sleep. Many were homeless and Mac recognized them from the neighborhood. Others were elderly or families with small children who were living in dangerously hot conditions. Club volunteers assisted with getting the guests settled and familiar with the rules. When most of the activity had died down, Mac pulled Joanna into his office.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm spending the night here," he said. "With all these strangers her I wanna be around just in case something happens."

Jo laughed. "Cynthia told me the same thing earlier. In fact, I offered to stay with her so I guess we're all here for the long haul."

After a short, impromptu meeting, it was decided that the three of them would take turns monitoring activity in the center. MacGyver volunteered for the first shift and Joanna and Cynthia headed to their respective offices to rest until it was their turn. He settled himself in the chair behind the small reception desk that was normally occupied by Rosie. He silently shook his head, wondering how she managed to work a full time third shift job and volunteer all day at Challengers as well as raise Raul. He made a mental note to sit down with Cynthia and go over the accounts to see if there was a way to pay her for her services.

Macgyver's chin had dropped to his chest and he was struggling to keep his eyes open when he heard raised voices coming from the parking lot. He glanced at his watch. It was just a couple of minutes before midnight. He rose from the chair and hurried outside to see what was going on.

"You don't belong here! This ain't your turf!" a teen Mac recognized as a Challengers Club member yelled at a group of young men hidden in the shadows.

"Oh yeah?! I heard the mayor on the news and he said anyone could come so here we are!" a twenty-something man with a rather thick Hispanic accent shot back.

Mac watched as the teen from Challengers lunged at his opponent and wasted no time getting between the two.

"Hold it!" MacGyver commanded, separating them before either could throw a punch.

When Mac was satisfied that a brawl was not about to ensue, he turned his attention to the young man who seemed to be the antagonist and the small group of teens standing behind him and immediately understood what the problem was.

"Challengers doesn't turn anyone away," MacGyver began to explain. "But it's also a gang-free zone. You're more than welcome to join us, but you gotta lose the colors first," he said, looking to the yellow and black bandannas the boys wore either on their heads or around their necks."

"Forget it, man!" the leader spat. "The Kings don't go nowhere we ain't respected." He turned, snapped his fingers, and the others fell in behind him stalking off into the night.

MacGyver turned to the remaining teen who stood under a street lamp and now recognized him as Diego.

"That was a really dumb thing to do," Mac scolded. "What made you come out here in the first place?"

The teen shrugged. "I heard a noise outside my window and wanted to see what was up."

"Well, the next time you hear strange noises come and get me. You know that could've turned out really bad for you tonight."

"Yes sir," Diego responded sullenly as they both headed inside.

Mac returned to find Joanna standing next to the chair he had recently vacated, her arms crossed protectively in front of her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"A few members of the Latin Kings decided to pay us a visit."

Jo's eyes grew wide and MacGyver knew what she was thinking. "Don't worry, everything's fine," he assured her. "Why don't you go back to the office?"

She shook her head. "It's almost time for my shift, anyway. Besides, I haven't been able to sleep."

"Why not?" Concern furrowed Mac's brow.

"It's probably just the heat and knowing there are strangers around," she replied before settling herself in the desk chair.

Mac wasn't buying that. Joanna had been distant all afternoon and evening, and he doubted the heat was to blame, but he'd have plenty of time to ferret out the truth tomorrow.

"All right," he reluctantly agreed. "But come and get me if there's any trouble." He headed towards his office even though he knew he would be wide awake the rest of the night.

The following day, as the ones before it, dawned sunny, hot, and humid. A truck arrived from a local store to deliver donated cases of bottled water, ice, and snacks. Mac was helping Jo and Cynthia put away the needed supplies when Diego came running up to them.

"My bike's gone! The Latin Kings stole my bike last night!"

"Whoa, take it easy," Mac replied, gently grabbing the boy by the shoulders. "Are you sure it was stolen?"

Diego rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm sure! It was there when I went to bed and now it's gone!"

"How do you know one of the Kings took it?"

The boy looked at him as if he was questioning Mac's sanity.

"They were here last night," Diego said, as if that proved their guilt.

"Yeah, but I didn't see any of them take your bike. Did _you_?"

"No, but one of them could've taken it before we went outside."

"And you're sure you locked it up on the rack yesterday?" Mac inquired.

Diego's gaze fell and he refused to look MacGyver in the eye. "I lost the lock last week," he mumbled. "But I thought it would be safe with all the other bikes there!"

Mac sighed. "Anyone could've taken your bike. You know that. And why didn't you ask me for a new lock? We have to be extra careful with things that are important to us."

He looked up at Joanna for reinforcement but was met with a stunned expression before she turned and hurried away.

"Go with Ms. Cynthia and call the cops to report your stolen bike," Mac instructed before going after Joanna.

He found her in her office, organizing her desk like she always did when she was upset about something. His eyes found her hands of their own accord. She still wasn't wearing her beloved ring.

"When are you going to tell me what's going on with you?" he asked softly.

"There's nothing going on with me," she replied defensively. "I told you last night, it's just the heat."

"I didn't believe that last night and I don't believe it now," he informed her, walking up to her and grabbing her empty left hand. "Does it have anything to do with this?" he asked, tenderly stroking the finger that usually displayed the dark blue sapphire.

Joanna's eyes welled with tears. "I think it's been stolen," she sighed shakily. "I hadn't meant to wear it yesterday, but put it on by force of habit. I left it on Cynthia's desk before we went upstairs to clean the dorm bathrooms. When we came down for lunch it was gone."

"Are you sure you just didn't misplace it or overlook it?" Mac asked, squeezing her hand tighter hoping to comfort her.

"I looked everywhere. Yesterday and last night. I even questioned some of the volunteers, but no one has seen it."

"Who had access to the office?"

"I know for sure that Rosie did. But if someone forgot to lock the door, anyone could've gone in."

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

Joanna's chin began to quiver. "I didn't want you to think I was some dumb, irresponsible flake."

"Aw baby," he crooned, stepping around the desk and pulling her to him. "You are absolutely none of those things. You had every right to believe your ring would be safe in Cynthia's office."

Jo buried her face in his shirt and he rested his chin on the top of her head as she allowed tears to fall. He held her tight until her trembling stopped and she started to pull away.

"We should call the police," he suggested gently.

"It won't do any good," Jo replied, wiping the moisture from her cheeks. "Whoever took it is sure to have pawned it by now."

"It still wouldn't hurt. And we need to get the word out around here in case it's just lost."

Joanna nodded her acquiescence just as Rosie knocked frantically on the office door.

"Mr. MacGyver, I am so sorry to interrupt, but I need you to look at something."

"Sure, what is it?"

Rosie reached into her purse and pulled out a clear plastic zip bag with a powdery white substance inside.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked anxiously.

Mac dipped a finger in the bag and gingerly tasted a bit of the white powder.

"It's cocaine. Where'd you find this?"

"It was floating in our toilet this morning. I wanted to ask Raul about it, but he had already left. I thought he'd be here, but he's not."

"I'm gonna go find him," MacGyver declared, shoving the bag of drugs into his back jean pocket.

"Do you know where he is?" Rosie asked.

"No, but I have a hunch."

MacGyver replayed the last twenty-four hours in his mind. Joanna's ring and Diego's bike had both mysteriously disappeared as well as cash from Rosie's wallet. And then, for no apparent reason at the time, local gang members showed up. Now, a bag of coke had been found in the Garcia home.

He turned to Joanna and kissed her quickly on the lips, not caring that Rosie was watching. "Don't worry, we're gonna get to the bottom of this," he promised before walking away.

After getting some information from Diego, MacGyver took off in his Jeep to cruise the Latin Kings' turf. He slowly drove up one block and down another, but the streets were empty. Apparently, like cops, gang bangers were never around when you needed one. He was just about to give up when he passed an alley and caught movement in his peripheral vision. Parking the Jeep, he climbed out and walked back toward the alley, his nerve endings tingling with awareness. Before moving further, he did a visual assessment of the narrow passageway. Nothing. But a shiver sliding down his back told him things may not be as they seemed. He began to stealthily walk through the alley, alert and ready to pounce on anything that moved. He was about halfway in when he saw a pair of ragged tennis shoes poking out from behind a large cardboard box.

With the element of surprise on his side, MacGyver grabbed the box and in one swift motion flung it aside to find Raul huddled against the brick wall of the building behind him, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes wide with fear.

"Raul! What are you doing here?"

"I'm hiding from them! They're gonna kill me!" the young teen cried.

"Who?! Who's after you?"

"The Latin Kings. They're gonna kill me!" Raul repeated.

MacGyver pulled the small bag of cocaine out of his pocket.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with this, would it?" he asked calmly.

Raul nodded as Mac sat down on the ground next to him.

"So, you usin', dealin' or both?"

"I ain't doin' none of that," the teen insisted.

"Raul, your mother found this in your house. Now what's goin' on?"

"I was taking a shortcut home a couple days ago and accidently walked through Kings' turf. They jumped me and tried to get me to join. When I refused, they said I would have to pay up if I didn't want them to hurt me or my mom."

The gears began to turn in MacGyver's mind and suddenly clicked.

"So you were supposed to sell this coke and give them the money to keep them away from you and your mom?"

Raul nodded. "I didn't want to! Honest! So I flushed it. Or at least I thought I did."

"Plastic floats, man," Mac reminded him only to be greeted by silence, but he figured he could guess the rest.

"Okay, so you planned to get rid of the coke, but you still needed to pay them off so you took money from your mom's wallet and stole Diego's bike and Ms. Joanna's ring. Am I right?"

"Yeah," Raul mumbled. "Only, when I tried to hock the bike and ring I didn't get as much as I thought I would. If I don't get the money by six o'clock tonight I'm a dead man!"

"Relax. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," Mac promised.

"How you gonna do that?"

"Well, first of all, I'm taking you back to Challengers and we're gonna call the police."

"Are you loco?! Do you know what gangs do to snitches?!"

"Raul, it's the right thing to do. Now let's get outta here."

Back at Challengers, Rosie greeted her son with a suffocating hug followed by a scathing reprimand when he confessed to what he had done.

"C'mon," Mac said, putting a guiding hand on the boy's shoulder. "Let's go in my office and make that phone call."

A few minutes later they emerged from the room to find Joanna, Rosie and Cynthia huddled nearby.

"Well…?" Joanna asked impatiently.

Mac jammed his splayed fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. "I talked with Officer Hill, the cop we met yesterday. He said there was nothing the police could do unless the gang was caught doing something illegal. Raul gave his statement and Hill is gonna pass it on to the anti-gang taskforce."

"What about tonight?" she pressed as Rosie stood next to her anxiously wringing her hands.

"I don't know," MacGyver sighed, keenly aware of the expectant gazes that had settled on him. He had always been the man with the plan. The guy that got called in to do what the best of the best could not. Today, he felt horribly inadequate.

"I got an idea!" Raul suddenly exclaimed. "The cop dude said they needed to catch the gang in the act right?" He waited for Mac to nod before continuing. "Then let's go through with the payoff! You can put a wire on me. We'll get them on tape and take it to the police! I just saw it on TV and it worked like a charm!"

"No way! It's too dangerous," Mac proclaimed. "Besides, this is real life, not some television show."

There had to be _something_ he could do. But what? Back in L.A. he would've gone to one of his trusted friends on the police force but here he had no one. Nevertheless, he mentally scrolled through the Rolodex in his brain.

"I think I might have an idea," he announced.

"What is it?" Jo asked.

"I need to make a phone call," was all he said before turning and walking back into his office, well aware of the frustration on Joanna's face at being left out of his plan. But he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up in case things didn't work out.

"Lee Vang, attorney at law, how may I help you?"

"Hey Lee, it's MacGyver."

"Mac! Good to hear from you! Step in front of any speeding bullets lately?"

"Ha, ha, very funny. What ever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"When your wife works as a trauma nurse you hear a lot of stories. Wendi knew we were friends and thought you wouldn't mind."

MacGyver hadn't met Wendi Vang when he had recently been rushed to the hospital with a gunshot wound, at least not while he had been conscious, but Joanna had told him how understanding and helpful Wendi had been and he would be forever grateful for that.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the lawyer continued.

"You wouldn't happen to have any connections in the police department? Maybe someone who owes you a favor?"

"What kind of trouble are you in this time, Mac?" Lee chuckled.

MacGyver explained everything about Raul's run in with the Latin Kings and the impending repercussions.

"Raul Garcia. Isn't that the young man I defended earlier this year in a case involving vandalism and gang activity? The one whose mom makes those killer tamales?"

"I'm afraid it is," Mac admitted.

"That boy sure has a knack for finding trouble. Are you sure he's not related to you?"

"You're just a regular comedian today, aren't you, Vang? Can you help us out or not?"

Lee's voice became serious. "I have some people I can contact. I'll have them meet you at Challengers."

XXXXX

MacGyver saw Joanna look nervously at her watch. It was five o'clock. One hour until Raul was scheduled to meet the Kings at the abandoned factory by the river. Lee Vang had sent over four off-duty narcotic detectives, two of whom were already in position in the communication van a block away from the meeting site. The van was disguised with signage indicating it was an air conditioning repair company, a rather common sight in the city these days so it was doubtful anyone would find its presence suspicious. The two remaining detectives had commandeered MacGyver's office and swiftly secured Raul and his mother behind closed doors. Joanna had taken Rosie's place at the reception desk, happily greeting bedraggled persons seeking relief from the heat, pretending that Challengers was operating as usual. He knew she was upset that he planned to tag along with Raul and the detectives, and even more upset that she couldn't join them, but it was important for her to remain and help Cynthia keep the club running. Mac pulled up a chair and sat next to her, wanting to spend a few quiet moments together before he headed out.

"What are they doing in there?" she whispered to him as she glanced at his closed office door.

"They're wiring him up and giving him instructions on what to say and how to act given different scenarios."

"So he really is gonna be like that guy on television?"

"Pretty much," Mac confirmed, putting a calming hand on her thigh. "But don't worry. We'll have lots of eyes on him. He won't be alone for a second."

Joanna turned to look at him. "That's what they always say and the sting always goes south."

"Have you been watching TV with Raul?" MacGyver teased, trying to lighten the mood. However, given Joanna's deep frown and steely gaze, his effort had been unsuccessful.

"I don't like this, Mac."

"Neither do I. But we don't have many options at this point. If he would've come to us right way then maybe…"

His office door opened and the small group emerged and headed toward MacGyver.

"Ready to go?" the first detective asked.

"Let's do this," Mac replied.

"Okay, we're going to leave the building separately and at intervals, just in case they have someone watching the place," the second detective instructed. "MacGyver, you go last. Make sure Raul doesn't get intercepted between here and the factory. And when you get there, go straight to the van. I'm not in the mood for any collateral damage."

Fifteen minutes before the designated meeting time, MacGyver slipped through the back door of the surveillance van. A detective handed him a pair of headphones and binoculars. Mac climbed into the driver's seat and trained the binoculars on the front of the abandoned factory where Raul stood just outside the main doors.

"I'd feel better if we had some cameras on him," Mac commented.

"Didn't have enough notice to get them set up," came the officer's curt reply. "Besides, didn't want to risk being made by any Kings that might be hanging out."

Mac couldn't argue with that. As he sat watching Raul, he felt his adrenaline build and his heart rate increase. The worst part of any mission, at least for him, was the waiting. He glanced at his watch. Six o'clock on the nose. When he looked up, he saw three gang members sporting their black and yellow colors approach Raul from either side of the old building. MacGyver put on his headset and readjusted the binoculars. A tall, broad shouldered male separated himself from the others and stood to face Raul.

"You got my cash?"

"I changed my mind, Manny," Raul said in a stronger voice than Mac expected. "I ain't sellin' no dope." Raul held out the bag of coke to the gang leader who snatched it from his hand.

"Sounds like we got ourselves a problem then," Manny sneered, moving in closer.

"There's no problem. Let's just forget the whole thing," Raul suggested.

"It don't work like that, dude. You come around on King turf you either join up or pay up."

"I ain't joinin' and I ain't payin'!"

"I guess you don't care about that pretty little mama of yours."

"What do you mean?" Raul asked, his brave facade crumbling.

"You gotta protect your family, man. That's what I mean."

Raul shifted his weight from one foot to another, nervously licking his lips as he glanced around to find the other gang members slowly surrounding him, guns and knives visible and threatening.

"All right! All right! I'll sell your stupid dope! But just this one time so you don't hurt my mom!"

An evil, satisfied grin spread across Manny's face as he handed the coke back to Raul. As soon as the bag with the white powder hit Raul's hand, the detectives lunged from their hiding places and the two officers in the van barreled out the back doors. Shouts of "Freeze! Police!" and "Drop your weapons!" rent the evening air. For a moment it was if time stood still. Then suddenly the police had all the boys down on the ground, handcuffs snapped into place. MacGyver breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The takedown had been quick and harmless. He lowered his binoculars and was pulling off his headset when he saw a teen in Latin Kings colors race from the factory, past the van Mac was in. Acting on pure instinct, MacGyver tumbled out the driver's side door and quickly regained his feet to chase after the boy. It didn't take long for Mac to catch up and, hurtling through the air, slam the gang member into the ground, landing on top of him. Before Mac could right himself, the teen rolled over, knife flailing in his hand. MacGyver felt the sharp sting of the blade as it sliced his bicep, but his focus remained on the miscreant writhing beneath him. He reached out, grabbing the knife-wielding arm and pounding it hard into the ground until the boy's grip slackened and the weapon fell harmlessly away. Mac stood, wadding the teen's shirt front in his fist and pulling him up to his feet. Together they stumbled back to the van where MacGyver handed the escapee over to one of the detectives.

"Looks like we better get you an ambulance," the officer said, looking at the blood flowing from Mac's upper arm as he took custody of the boy.

"It's just a flesh wound," MacGyver shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, right," the cop smirked before turning to speak into his walkie-talkie.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joanna sat at the Challengers reception desk smiling welcoming smiles at newcomers seeking relief from the heat and happily accepting donations from the community, but inside her heart was fluttering and her stomach churning. She glanced at her watch for the fifth time in the last four minutes. How long until she heard something? The meeting should have taken place thirty minutes ago and yet no one had called to inform them of the outcome. She was about to glance at her watch again when Cynthia approached and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I just heard from the detectives," she informed Joanna. "Raul is safe and all the gang members are in custody."

"So no one was hurt?" Jo asked with cautious hopefulness.

"MacGyver sustained an injury. They wouldn't give me any details, but he's on his way to the hospital right now."

Without a word, Joanna quickly retrieved her purse, grabbed her keys and headed out. It wasn't until she was behind the wheel, already driving down the road that she realized she hadn't even said good-bye to Cynthia much less apologized for leaving her alone to run the center, but upon hearing Mac was hurt, nothing else seemed to matter.

Joanna rushed through the automatic doors of the emergency room only to be greeted by Wendi Vang.

"Wow! You made good time. The ambulance hasn't even arrived yet!" Wendi grinned, but Jo failed to find any humor in her observation. "The medics just called in. Mac's okay, just a knife wound that's going to need stitched up."

Joanna breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the injury wasn't worse. The nurse's pager went off and she politely excused herself, leaving Jo to take a seat in the emergency waiting room. Sitting on the hard plastic chair, she leaned her head back against the wall, her eyelids fluttering closed of their own volition as the stress and excitement of the day finally caught up with her. To her surprise, she must have dozed off because the next time she opened her eyes it was to find MacGyver standing in the waiting room watching her, a crooked grin on his face. The only evidence of his injury was a ripped and bloodied shirt sleeve and the white dressing peeking out of the tear.

"Hi," he greeted her softly. "Tough day, huh?"

"You could say that," she agreed, standing but not moving towards him.

"You're upset," he observed.

"I was worried," she amended. "But Wendi assured me you'd be okay even before you got here."

"But you stayed."

"I figured you'd need a ride home," she shrugged.

A young doctor wearing glasses and a lab coat interrupted them.

"Excuse me, Mr. MacGyver, but here are your discharge papers. Remember to keep the site clean and dry and we'll see you back here in ten days to take out the stitches."

"Thanks," Mac murmured, taking the papers and shaking the physician's hand before turning back to Joanna. "Shall we go?"

Jo turned her back to him and headed out the door, leaving him to follow in her wake. Once in the car she cranked the engine and jacked up the air conditioning as MacGyver struggled to push the passenger seat back and buckle his seat belt.

"You're upset," Mac repeated as she pulled out of the parking lot feeling his eyes on her.

"I'm not upset," she sighed heavily. "I'm just trying really hard to get used to the idea that the emergency room is your second favorite hang-out after the ice rink."

"That's not true," he retorted. "Wherever you are is by far my absolute, number one hang-out. The ice rink is second and the hospital is a distant third."

By now they were parked in MacGyver's driveway, the car idling. Joanna finally turned to look at him and genuinely smiled for what seemed to be the first time in days. When he smiled back, her stomach did a funny little flip.

"You wanna come in?"

"Do you need help with something?"

"No, I just thought…"

She reached out and put a hand on his cheek to silence him. "I think it's best if we both just get a good night's sleep."

"But we're okay, right?" he asked, the worry in his eyes and concern in his voice tugging at her heart.

"We're way better than okay," she assured him before they leaned toward each other, their lips meeting in a kiss that melted her from the inside out.

XXXXX

Joanna looked up at the clock on the wall and frowned.

"I thought MacGyver would be here by now," she said, a bit deflated.

"I called him last night and told him to take the day off," Cynthia informed her.

"I know. That's why I thought he'd be here already!" she chuckled with Cynthia joining in.

An unpredicted cold front had swept through the region the night before leaving behind comfortable temperatures and low humidity. Cynthia, Joanna, Rosie, and several Challengers members had spent the better part of the morning cleaning the dorms and recreation area in an effort to get the club back to normal since there was no longer a need for cooling stations. Jo had just stowed the last of the cleaning supplies in a closet when MacGyver poked his head in the door.

"Is Diego here?" he asked, a secretive smile on his face.

"Yeah, he's around," Jo replied.

"Go find him and bring him outside."

Knowing better than to question Mac's request, Joanna went in search of Diego and escorted him out to the parking lot, the others following close behind out of curiosity. There, MacGyver stood grinning widely with a bicycle standing in front of him.

"Well, what do ya think?" he asked the boy whose eyes had gone wide.

"Is that _my_ bike?" Diego asked in disbelief.

"Sure is!" Mac proclaimed. "Bought it back from the pawn shop this morning."

Diego whooped with joy as he grabbed his bike, hopped on, and began riding laps around the lot. As everyone laughed and clapped and congratulated MacGyver on his find, Joanna snuck back into the building and slunk into her office. Sitting at her desk, she put her face in her hands, ashamed of her selfish feelings. Naturally, she was glad to see that Diego had gotten his bicycle back, but she couldn't help feeling jealous because his property had been recovered but not hers. Of course, pawn shops were notorious for quickly selling valuable items like jewelry as opposed to a boy's old, rusty bike. Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching and quickly lowered her hands, pretending to study her blank computer screen.

"Why aren't you outside with the others," Mac asked, standing casually in the doorway.

"With all the craziness of the past few days I have a lot of work to catch up on," she replied, hoping her voice didn't reveal her true thoughts.

"Well, when I was out this morning trying to track down Diego's bike, I found something in one of the pawn shops I thought you might like." He slowly walked behind her desk and, with a hand supporting her elbow, silently encouraged her to stand as she gazed at him skeptically.

Once they were standing face-to-face, he reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out his gift. Between his thumb and forefinger he held a dark blue sapphire ring with diamond accents. Joanna's breath caught. She couldn't believe her eyes.

"It can't be," she shook her head in amazement. "Is that really my ring?"

"Now you sound like Diego!" Mac laughed. "Yes, it is really your ring. The store owner recognized it as a high quality piece of jewelry that most likely didn't belong to the man who hocked it. He didn't put it on display in case someone came looking for it."

"I can't believe it!" Jo exclaimed, finally allowing her excitement to bubble to the surface.

She reached out to take the ring, but MacGyver quickly pulled his hand away.

"Hey!" she scolded.

"If I'm going to give you a ring I'm going to do it the right way," he explained as if to a child. "Now, hold out your hand."

Joanna gave him an exaggerated eye roll but held out her right hand, palm up.

"Not like that," Mac chided as he stepped even closer and took her left hand in his. With his other hand he gently, almost reverently, slipped the precious piece on her ring finger.

Jo's jaw slackened and her mouth went dry. "Maaac?" she asked uncertainly.

MacGyver bent his head so his lips were against her ear, his breath tickling her neck.

"Don't worry. I'm just practicing."


	25. Aunt Betty's B&B

**Aunt Betty's B &B**

"Welcome to Cloverton! Home of Aunt Betty's Bed and Breakfast proudly owned and operated by none other than our very own Penny Parker!" MacGyver proclaimed as he turned his Jeep onto Main Street and cruised the two lane road lined with several storefronts on either side that comprised the downtown area of the small town. It had been nearly ten years since Mac first visited here with Penny to check out the large Tudor Revival style mansion she had inherited from her aunt and it appeared nothing had changed. In fact, he highly doubted anything about this town had changed since the 1950's.

"I still don't feel right about leaving Cynthia alone at Challengers," Joanna protested from the passenger seat.

"She gave us her blessing, remember?" Mac reminded her. "Besides, it's been a crazy summer and in a couple weeks you'll be starting your new part-time job at the high school. I thought this would be a good chance for us to spend some time together, just the two of us."

"You did call Penny to let her know we're coming, right?"

"Yes. I called. Now would you stop worrying! All you have to do for the next few days is relax. Do you think you can handle that?"

"I guess I can try."

MacGyver glanced over to find Jo smiling playfully back at him and his heart squeezed in the most delightful way.

A few minutes later, he parked the Jeep in front of the large house. The masonry base, stone chimneys, and upper stories done in stucco and timber were all familiar. However, the overgrown trees and shrubs had all been trimmed and colorful flower beds scattered throughout the yard gave the old place warm appeal. He climbed from the driver's seat and met Joanna at the back of his vehicle, ready to open the hatch.

"MacGyver!" a bubbly female voice called. "Joanna! I'm so glad you're here!" Penny Parker skipped down the front steps and engulfed them each in an enthusiastic hug.

"It's good to see you too, Penny," Mac chuckled. He opened the back of the Jeep and went to reach for a piece of luggage when Penny put a staying hand on his arm.

"You can get your stuff later," she told him. "First, I want you to see your room. Oh! I just know you're gonna love it!" She flashed her famous smile before unwittingly turning her back on her new guests, assuming they would follow.

As MacGyver and Joanna climbed the grand staircase, Mac's head swiveled to take in the changes that had been made to the house. His memory of a dreary, shadowy shell was soon quashed by the bright, welcoming warmth the home now exuded. He followed the two women down the long hallway to the corner room where Penny stopped beside a closed door.

"Oooh, this is so exciting!" Penny cried, her body quivering with barely contained excitement. Jo tossed Mac a grin over her shoulder just as the younger woman threw the door open.

"Ta da!" she exclaimed as her guests warily crossed the threshold.

In the center of the large room accented in red and gold stood an ornately carved king size canopy bed, its comforter littered with pink rose petals. Mac watched as Joanna moved forward and picked up a piece of the velvety flower, gently rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger, a questioning look on her face. MacGyver shrugged and took a step back, bumping into a standing silver ice bucket. He pulled out a chilled bottle.

"That's sparkling grape juice," Penny explained with a knowing grin from her position just inside the doorway. "I know you don't drink...well, at least you never used to...and I figured Joanna doesn't either...or at least she wouldn't mind-"

Mac held up a hand to silence his friend. "What is this all about?" he asked.

Penny's gleaming smile fell just a fraction. "It's the honeymoon suite! I wanted to make it extra special for you!"

"Penny," Jo replied gently albeit with a slight blush, "We're not on our honeymoon."

"But I assumed when MacGyver called to tell me he wanted to bring you someplace special that you two had gotten married." Penny's frown deepened and tears began to pool in her eyes. Mac walked up to her, took her shoulders in his hands, and ducked his head so he was looking into her eyes.

"Penny, don't you think that if Jo and I _had_ gotten married we would have invited you to the wedding?"

"Oh, I never thought about that," she said quietly. "But you could have eloped!" she stated hopefully. Mac shook his head.

"I'm such an airhead," Penny moaned, tears threatening to fall. "I went through all this trouble because I wanted to do something really special for you guys and I blew it!"

"It really is lovely, Penny," Joanna said. "It means a lot that you went through all this trouble just for us."

"Really?" the younger woman asked, rallying just a bit.

"Really," MacGyver assured her.

"I just thought of something else," Penny wailed. "I don't have any place else for you to sleep! I booked all the rooms because I thought you'd be sleeping...well, you know...together! I mean, it's okay if you do...it's not like it's any of my beeswax...but I suppose I could figure out something if you don't…"

"This will be just fine. We'll make it work," Joanna declared, once again coming to the rescue.

"Yeah. I could always sleep in the bathtub," Mac teased, but the old joke fell flat.

Joanna continued to address Penny. "That bed is so huge Mac and I won't even know the other is there. We can even put pillows down the middle. It's no problem."

What she said was true and right, yet he felt unduly disappointed that she planned to keep her soft warmth well away from him. Then again, with those kinds of thoughts running through his head, perhaps her plan was wise. If not, there was always the bathtub.

XXXXX

"What in the world did you pack?" MacGyver complained as he hefted Joanna's suitcases out of the Jeep.

"Just the basic necessities and a few books," she replied airily.

"It feels more like everything but the kitchen sink and an entire library."

"I like to have options," she shrugged, picking up a small wicker basket with a hinged, quilted cover.

"What's that?"

"My knitting."

"You knit?"

"Yeah. I knit hats and scarves to donate to my church's winter clothes drive," Jo explained then grinned cheekily. "There are still some things you don't know about me, Mac."

They were about to enter the house with their belongings when they heard a high-pitched squeal followed by the crash of a metal rain gutter on the porch's concrete overhang. They automatically cringed.

"Oh, terrific!" Penny exclaimed as she stood on the lawn surveying the damage. "Now what am I going to do?!"

"Why don't you tell me what you were doing in the first place?" Mac asked, abandoning the luggage to join his friend, Joanna close behind.

"I was trying to clean out the gutters before the next rain and now look what happened," she pouted, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Don't you pay someone to do that kinda stuff?" he inquired.

Penny let out a huff. "I did until last week."

"What happened last week?"

"My handyman was cleaning out the gutters in back when he fell off the ladder and broke his leg. He won't be able to work for six weeks!"

"So, hire someone else," Mac suggested.

"It's not that simple," Penny replied softly, literally wringing her hands.

"Why not?"

"Well, before the ladder incident my cook was frying chicken for supper when the pot tipped over and the oil burned her hands. She quit on the spot! With two freak accidents in one week some of the townspeople are saying the house is-"

"Don't tell me they think it's _haunted,"_ MacGyver interrupted.

Penny nodded silently, her eyes on the ground.

"We've been through this already. There's no such thing as ghosts!"

"And _I'm_ not the one saying it's haunted!" Penny shot back. "In fact, before I opened for business, I had a séance just to make sure."

"Aw, Penny!" Mac threw his hands up in the air in exasperation and turned away but she ignored him.

"Anyway, the house got a clean bill of health," she proclaimed.

"Don't worry, Penny. Mac and I will help out while we're here," Jo promised.

Mac spun to face the two women. "No! No way!" he protested. "We came here to relax and that's exactly what we're gonna do!"

Joanna grabbed his arm and pulled him several yards away from the house.

"What has gotten into you?! Penny's your friend and needs our help! She could've gotten killed trying to clean those gutters by herself!" Jo exclaimed, her steely gaze boring into him.

"That's exactly my point!" he spat back. "My friend's _always_ need my help and I'm getting sick and tired of being their go-to guy! Penny's been running this place for years and has apparently been doing just fine without me. She can manage on her own."

"I can't believe you just said that!" Joanna responded, her tone conveying both shock and disappointment. "If you want to kick back and relax, fine! But I'm gonna help Penny! And _you_ can sleep in the bathtub!" She turned and strode purposefully toward the house.

"Fine!" Mac called to her retreating figure, slapping his palm against his forehead when he realized how selfish and childish he sounded. He hurried to catch up so he could apologize as well as agree to assist with the B&B. He had let his pent up frustration get the better of him. There was no way he would deny Penny his help. He entered the foyer to find Joanna standing stock still, watching a heated argument between their host and one of her guests.

"And _I'm_ telling _you_ that I had the entire house rewired and brought up to code. I don't know what's wrong!" Penny insisted.

"Well I suggest you find out my dear! And when you do, I'll be in my room _handwriting_ my notes!" an older gentleman with a grey mustache and reading glasses replied frostily.

"What was that all about?" MacGyver asked once the man had returned upstairs.

"Oh, him," Penny replied dejectedly. "That's Mr. Bidwell. He says he's an author who needed a quiet place to work on his next novel but all he's done since he arrived a couple days ago is complain. Right now he's upset because his electric typewriter isn't working and he insists there's something wrong with the electrical sockets in his room."

"Did he ever consider that there might be something wrong with the machine?" Mac asked.

"That's it, MacGyver! You're a genius!" Penny gushed. "Why don't you go and see if you can fix it?!"

"Um, Penny, I don't know…" He caught Jo's reprimanding look out of the corner of his eye and cleared his throat. "Lead the way," he sighed.

After Penny knocked on Mr. Bidwell's door and introduced him to MacGyver, the man grudgingly stepped aside allowing Mac to enter. He immediately went to the old typewriter that, like the rest of the town, looked like it belonged in the 1950's.

"Nice looking machine," Mac mused.

"Indeed, my boy!" the author boasted. "I've traveled around the world with it. Made me the top-selling novelist you see today. Never gave me a moment's problem until I came _here_."

"Mind if I take a look?" MacGyver asked politely.

"Go ahead, if you must, but please be careful."

"You bet."

Before taking off the cover, Mac checked to make sure the machine was unplugged. He was _not_ in the mood to get electrocuted today. Once he exposed the inside workings he surveyed each section carefully. Though not an expert in the field, he couldn't find anything obviously wrong. For good measure, he pulled out his Swiss Army knife, found the tool he wanted, and checked to make sure that all the wires were in place and secure. He carefully put the heavy cover back on and plugged it in.

"Go ahead, give it a try," he encouraged Mr. Bidwell.

The older man sat down in the chair and touched a key. It worked perfectly. He typed a word, then a sentence, then a paragraph.

"Well, I'll be!" he exclaimed. "What did you do to it young man?"

"Oh, nothing much," Mac hedged. "I just tweaked a few things."

"And I thank you for that. It works as good as new! Now please, be on your way. I have a novel to finish!"

"How did it go? Were you able to fix it?" Penny asked anxiously when MacGyver returned downstairs.

"Actually, I couldn't find anything wrong with the typewriter or the socket. I pretended to tinker with it, but it was fine. Mr. Bidwell is happily typing away as we speak."

"Gosh, that's kinda strange, isn't it?" Penny's eyes widened.

Mac shrugged. "Not really. It's an old machine and bound to act up at times. It probably has happened before but Bidwell would rather blame you than admit it."

XXXXX

The piercing ring of the alarm clock startled MacGyver awake. He slapped at it hoping to find the snooze button. He then turned and looked at the red glowing digits. Two in the morning?! He looked across the wide bed at Joanna. True to her word she was huddled on the far edge, seemingly still fast asleep, with a wall of pillows between them. At least he wasn't in the bathtub. Making sure the alarm feature on the clock was no longer set, Mac rolled over and went back to sleep.

Thirty minutes later the clock blared again. Mac shot up, grabbed it, and banged it against the nightstand. This couldn't be happening! He once again looked at Jo who had turned onto her back and was snoring softly. Deciding that perhaps there _was_ something wrong with the wiring in the building, MacGyver leaned over and unplugged the digital clock before flopping on his back to stare at the ceiling until slumber claimed him once more.

A distant but persistent ringing coaxed MacGyver awake, his hand automatically searching for the button to shut off the alarm. But wait. Didn't he unplug it during the night? He sat up shaking his head. Apparently now he was dreaming about hearing the alarm! Joanna emerged from the bathroom, already showered and dressed for the day.

"Hey there, sleepyhead!" she greeted him cheerily. "I thought _you_ were the morning person?"

"Did you hear the alarm clock ring just now?" he asked.

"No. Why? Did you have it set?"

"I don't suppose you heard it during the night?" he continued, ignoring her question.

"Nope," she shook her head. "I slept like a rock!"

"So I noticed," he groaned, peeling back the covers and slowly climbing out of bed.

"Mac? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just didn't sleep very well is all. By the way, what are _you_ doing up so early?"

"Penny and I are gonna try to recreate Aunt Betty's famous cinnamon rolls. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," he replied with a reassuring smile. "I'm gonna take a quick shower and I'll meet you downstairs."

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Penny was already in the kitchen retrieving ingredients from the pantry when Joanna appeared.

"How did you sleep?"

"Wonderfully," Jo replied. "I hate to say it, but I guess Mac was right. I really need some time away from work."

Penny smiled and handed Joanna an apron. Soon the two women were combining flour, sugar, and eggs and rolling out dough, all the while chatting amiably until a loud yowl from upstairs interrupted them.

"What was that?" Penny asked, fear evident in her eyes.

"I don't know, but it sounded like it came from my room!"

Together they bolted up the stairs and down the hallway, ignoring the guests peeking out of their rooms to see what all the ruckus was about. When they got to the honeymoon suite, Joanna pushed the door open and skidded to a stop so quickly that Penny almost knocked her over from behind. They gaped at MacGyver who stood in the bathroom doorway dripping wet, hair plastered to his head, towel wrapped around his waist, and scowling like a bear who had just been woken from hibernation.

"Wha...what happened?" Jo asked, biting back a giggle.

Mac's gazed was pinned on Penny. "I just ran out of hot water! That's what happened!" he snapped.

"But that can't be." Penny's expression was one of pure innocence and confusion. "I had an extra-large water heater installed just so something like this wouldn't happen!"

Turning serious, Joanna pushed past MacGyver, reached into the tub, and turned on the faucet.

"The water's just fine, Mac," she reported as it flowed over her hand. "Maybe you accidentally knocked the-"

"I didn't 'accidentally' do anything! I'm telling you, there was no hot water!"

"Well, there is now," Jo shrugged. "Why don't you get dressed and come downstairs. We'll go for a walk or something."

"Fine," Mac ground out as Joanna and Penny retreated, both of them giggling softly.

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"You've really done a great job with this place," MacGyver commented later that morning as Penny was giving him and Joanna a tour of the grounds. After a quick jog and a hearty breakfast including a fair facsimile of Aunt Betty's cinnamon rolls, Mac was feeling much more like himself.

"I really didn't do that much," Penny replied shyly. "I just hired people to do it for me."

"But they still used your ideas, right?" Mac cajoled.

"Well, yeah. I guess," she shrugged.

They were just about to round the front corner of the house when they heard raised voices coming from the porch swing.

"That's Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. They're here celebrating their sixtieth wedding anniversary." Penny whispered to Mac and Jo.

"Doesn't sound like they'll make sixty-one," MacGyver observed, earning slaps on either arm from his female companions.

"I'm tellin' ya, Iris, that girl is downright incompetent! I told her I wanted somethin' special for our anniversary and what does she do? She sticks us in a room with twin beds and a TV that's on the fritz!"

"Don't be so hard on the poor girl, George! After all, I heard she used to be an actress. What can you expect!? But I must say her cooking does leave something to be desired."

Mac's jaw clenched as he watched tears well in Penny's eyes. Sure, she might be a bit hapless at times, and she had a tendency to find trouble but that wasn't really her fault. Penny's greatest problem was that she had a trusting heart and childlike innocence about her. And MacGyver didn't consider that a bad thing. Suddenly they heard a loud clank, clatter, and then a thud followed by irate bellows and cries for help. Rounding the corner the trio saw that one of the chains securing the swing to the porch canopy had broken, causing George to crash to the ground and an overweight Iris to land on top of him. They hurried to make sure the elderly couple was okay.

"That's the last straw I tell you!" George bellowed, struggling to his feet as MacGyver put a steadying hand under the man's elbow. "We're packing our bags and going home!"

"Oh, Mr. Jackson, please wait!" Penny begged. "Let me make it up to you!" She threw Mac an apologetic glance before continuing. "The honeymoon suite just became available. I'll have your things moved right away!

"I'm sorry, young lady, but that's too little too late," he growled.

"Now George, be reasonable," Iris urged as she brushed the dirt from her dress. "It's not her fault the swing broke." Then she turned her attention on Mac and Joanna. "Are you the young couple staying in the honeymoon suite?"

"Yes ma'am," MacGyver replied.

"But didn't I see you arrive just yesterday?" Iris asked. "You can't be planning on leaving already!"

"Actually we-"

"George, we can't take that room away from them! Look how much in love they are...just like us sixty years ago! We're paid up to tomorrow. One more night won't make a difference."

"Well, I suppose not," her husband grumbled.

"Then it's settled! We'll all stay right where we are!" Iris declared. "But I do think George and I will be going into town for dinner this evening."

Penny sighed with relief as Mac put his hands on her shoulders.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she smiled reassuringly.

"Then why don't you show me where the handyman keeps his tools so I can fix that swing?"

"Oh Mac, you don't have to do that!"

"I want to, Penny. That's what friends are for."

XXXXX

MacGyver stared at Joanna, longing and frustration warring in his heart. She was curled up in a wingback chair on the other side of the living room engrossed in one of her novels. The other guests, and even Penny, had retired for the evening and it was finally just the two of them. And she was ignoring him completely. This was not what he had envisioned when he planned this little getaway.

"I'm gonna get a snack," he announced. "Want anything?"

"No," Jo mumbled, not even looking up from the page.

Mac pushed himself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. As he entered the room he saw Joanna's knitting basket sitting on the small table in the corner. A skein of blue yarn and a pair of knitting needles sat next to it. Apparently she had been keeping Penny company earlier as dinner cooked and he repaired the television set in the Jackson's room.

He had just turned toward the counter when he heard a soft clink behind him. He turned and found one of Joanna's knitting needles on the floor. Not thinking much of it, he picked it up and put it back on the table which he assumed was slightly less than level, making sure it was still before rummaging through the cupboards for something to eat. He had just begun to spread some peanut butter on a piece of whole grain bread when he heard the clink again.

"Really?" he muttered, putting down his knife and once again picking up the knitting needle. This time he stabbed it securely in the skein of yarn.

Feeling satisfied, he returned to his snack and had just taken a bite when he heard the noise again. He turned and stared at the offending tool lying on the floor, noticing that its counterpart remained securely tucked away as he had left it. He moved to pick up the needle but stopped himself. Joanna could pick up after her own self! He was looking out the window into the starless night as he chugged a glass of milk when he sensed her presence.

"Mac, have you seen my knitting?"

"On the table," he grunted without turning around. "And pick up the needle on the floor while you're at it."

"There's nothing on the floor," she said, the confusion in her voice causing him to turn and look for himself. Jo was right. The needle was on the table, just as he had originally found it.

"What the…?! I'm telling you, I heard the needle fall and saw it lying on the floor," he insisted.

"Well it isn't there now," she replied, irritating him by pointing out the obvious.

MacGyver had had enough. He needed this day to be over.

"You going back in the living room?" he asked brusquely.

"No, I was planning on going upstairs."

"Then I'll turn off the lights." He brushed past her without a glance.

"Mac, is everything okay?" Jo asked, dogging his heels.

"Everything's just swell," he replied drily.

He was halfway across the room when he felt her reach out to him.

"Mac…"

Her voice was so soft and sweet he couldn't help but stop and turn toward her.

"Look," she continued gently, "I know today's been kinda-"

"Stop," he commanded huskily, putting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing gently. "Let's forget about today. Just now I acted like a dumb, selfish kid because Penny's goofy problems and your friendship with her got in the way of us spending time alone and I'm sorry."

He waited silently as Joanna looked around the room then back at him, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"It looks like we're alone now," she whispered, smiling up at him.

"So it does," he grinned.

He pulled her toward him, lifting his hands to her face as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, bringing them even closer together. Her eyes fluttered close as his lips found hers, kissing her the way he had been aching to since they first arrived.

When they were both breathless, MacGyver broke the kiss, still cradling Joanna's face in his hands he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I think we should stop," he said, his voice ragged.

"Why?" she whispered against his lips.

"Because we're sharing a room," he stated huskily.

"So?" She playfully nipped his lower lip.

"We're sharing a bed." He nipped her back, enjoying the intimate playfulness she had initiated.

"So?" Her breath mingled with his. "Oooh!" she finally comprehended, pulling away from his touch. "Maybe you're right," she conceded, her cheeks flushed.

"Of course, I could always sleep down here on the couch," he suggested, already missing the warm softness of her body in his arms.

"It's not like you haven't done it before," she reasoned.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He reached for her again, closing his eyes knowing that his lips would find hers of their own accord, when suddenly he felt hands on his chest pushing him backward. His eyes flew open and his arms flailed instinctively in an attempt to keep his balance. He took a step back to steady himself, but his foot caught on the edge of an Oriental rug and the next thing he knew he was lying on his back. His view of the ceiling was quickly eclipsed by Joanna's concerned face.

"Mac! Are you okay!" she asked anxiously, kneeling beside him, her eyes wide with concern.

"What'd you do _that_ for?" he moaned, rubbing the back of his head which had hit the floor with a sickening thud.

"Do what? I didn't do anything," she protested. "I didn't even have a chance to touch you!"

"What happened?! I thought I heard something fall!" Penny exclaimed, emerging from her private quarters and hurrying down the hall to the living room. Her eyes widened when she found MacGyver on the floor.

"That 'something' was me," he groaned, regaining his feet. "I _tripped_ ," he explained, glancing suspiciously at Joanna whose expression was innocence personified.

"I told you I didn't touch you!"

"Oh, yeah?! Then whose hands did I feel on my chest?!"

"I can't believe this is happening again," Penny moaned.

"What?" Jo and Mac asked in unison.

"Isn't it obvious?" their host asked. "I have a new ghost!"

"I am not having this conversation again!" MacGyver exclaimed, spinning on his heels and striding toward the far end of the room.

"Then how do you explain all the strange things that have been happening?" Penny challenged.

"I don't know! Accidents? Faulty plumbing and electricity? Coincidence?"

"I thought you didn't believe in coincidence," Joanna observed.

"Well I believe in it a heck of a lot more than I believe in ghosts!" he shot back.

Heavy silence shrouded the room.

"Look," Mac sighed, his voice calmer now. "Why don't we take a closer look at all these 'incidences' and try to find a logical explanation, okay?"

Penny perked up immediately. "Great! I'll go put on a pot of coffee!"

"Penny, wait! I-"

"I know you don't drink coffee, MacGyver. It's just a saying!"

"No. I was going to say that I didn't plan on having this discussion tonight. It can wait until morning."

Mac watched Penny's happy face crumble and he felt like a first-class heel. "Then again, why put off until tomorrow what can be done tonight." Penny's bright smile immediately returned and MacGyver felt as if he had just successfully navigated a minefield blindfolded.

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"You don't really believe in this stuff, do you?" Mac asked Joanna as they settled themselves around the kitchen table while Penny went to grab something to write on.

"Don't you want to put Penny's mind at ease?" she asked.

"You didn't answer my question."

" _You_ didn't answer _mine_! But I'm not gonna say I _don't_ believe." MacGyver pulled a face, but Jo continued. "People have been experiencing hauntings for centuries and there's been tons of pretty scientific and persuasive research done on the subject. I would think you could at least respect _that_."

"I do, but-"

"Here we go!" Penny came bouncing back into the room, took a seat and handed Joanna a pen and legal pad. "What's the plan?"

"We're gonna make a list of all the weird things that have happened, the people affected, and see if we can find a common denominator," Joanna explained. "Now, when would you say this all started?"

Penny thought for a while before answering. "I guess the beginning of last week when the cook burned her hands," she replied. "Boy, you should have heard some of the words that came out of her mouth!"

"Did you two get along?" Jo continued.

"I guess," Penny shrugged. "I mean, we weren't friends or anything. She thought she was too great a chef to be working at a B&B, but she wasn't, really. Some of the stuff she cooked was just awful! And she wouldn't try fun, new things. Like try to make Aunt Betty's cinnamon rolls." The young woman smiled warmly at Jo who smiled back, remembering their culinary experiment and subsequent success twelve hours earlier.

"Okay, what happened next?" Joanna asked, frowning as she watched MacGyver fidget in his chair.

"That would have to be the handyman falling off the ladder," the younger woman replied definitively. "I had been asking him to clean out the gutters for weeks, but he kept grumbling about being nagged by someone young enough to be his daughter. He finally gave in and look what happened."

Jo shot Penny a sympathetic smile as Mac headed for the refrigerator and a glass of juice. "Next?"

"Oh, you were here for that! It was when Mr. Bidwell's typewriter wasn't working."

"Right. And you said he had been complaining a lot."

Penny nodded vigorously. "You'd think if he didn't like it here he'd just leave!"

"Okay, we're up to number four," Jo announced.

"That would have to be Mac's alarm clock going off," Penny offered. "And number five would be when he lost hot water in the shower."

"I told you, some glitch in the wiring and a too-small hot water heater can explain those," Mac reasoned even as Joanna sent a quelling look his way.

"Does that take us up to the swing chain breaking while Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were sitting on it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Penny mumbled, chewing her lower lip. "I thought they liked me until I heard them talking about me."

MacGyver reached over and covered her hand with his. "Don't worry about it. We managed to get everything straightened out. And I'm sure they like _you_. They were just a little disappointed with their circumstances."

Penny smiled her thanks at Mac who had turned his attention to Joanna.

"I guess that brings it back to me and the knitting needles rolling off the table which, by the way, simply means the table... _this_ table...isn't level."

"Well that's easy enough to check," Penny said, getting up and rummaging through a drawer before producing an old fashioned level and putting it in the middle of the table.

Everyone stood up so they could watch the little bubble which, once stilled, proved that the table was completely even.

"That can't be," MacGyver muttered.

Jo shrugged and motioned to the device. "The proof's right there."

Mac plopped back down in his chair and let out a huff. "Then I guess the final _incident_ is me _not_ being pushed back by Joanna."

"Right," she replied absently, already studying her notes.

"Did you find anything helpful?" Penny asked, peering over Jo's shoulder.

"I'm not sure," she answered, her brows knitting together. She aimed her next words at MacGyver. "Let's just say, for the sake of argument, that there _is_ a ghost here. It seems the only people it bothers are those who've had run-ins with Penny. It's almost like he, or she, is protecting or avenging her."

"Then why, 'for the sake of argument' does he, or she, have a beef with me?!" Mac glowered.

"I have no idea," Joanna replied thoughtfully. "Maybe it gets a kick out of annoying you or making you think you're going crazy or something."

"And it obviously doesn't want me to have a love life, either," he mumbled.

"Aha! So you admit I didn't push you!" Jo exclaimed triumphantly.

"That's not what I meant!"

"You said it yourself, MacGyver," Penny goaded.

"Can we just get on with this?" he snapped.

"Fine," Joanna replied frostily.

"Penny, did you bring anything new into the house right before the cook's accident?"

"I bought some groceries the day before. Why?"

"I mean, did you find or buy some kind of object...maybe a decorative antique? It's pretty well established that ghosts can attach themselves to objects and wherever the object goes, so does the ghost."

Penny started to shake her head then stopped. "Wait a minute...on the way to the supermarket I stopped at this little pawn shop because I've been meaning to get rid of some of Aunt Betty's old costume jewelry and I ended up buying a ring!" At that, Penny shot up out of her chair and hurried to her quarters. Upon returning, she had the ring in the palm of her hand and held it out for Joanna and MacGyver to inspect.

"A silver skull?" Jo asked warily.

"Weird, right? But I don't know...it just seemed to call to me. Like I _had_ to have it. Not that I ever plan on wearing it!"

"A death's head ring," Mac said under his breath so softly Joanna wasn't sure if she heard him correctly.

"What?" she asked, hoping for clarification.

"Nothing," MacGyver responded a bit too quickly. "I've had enough for tonight and I'm going to bed. If you two want to stay up and tell ghost stories, don't let me stop you."

Joanna watched as Mac emptied his glass of juice in the sink, exited the kitchen, and climbed the stairs. Something wasn't right. Rising from her own chair, she picked up the pad of paper and gave the pen back to Penny.

"I think we should call it a night, too," she suggested.

"But what about the ring? How are we gonna find out whose ghost is attached to it?"

"Let's worry about that in the morning, okay?" Right now, Jo was more worried about Mac.

Joanna opened the door to the honeymoon suite to find MacGyver lying on top of the bedcovers, staring at the ceiling.

"Wanna tell me about it?" she asked, climbing onto her side of the bed.

"There's nothin' to tell. I just got tired of all that dumb ghost talk."

"That's not true and you know it. I watched you turn three shades whiter than a ghost when Penny showed us that ring. You recognized it, didn't you?"

Mac suddenly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. "It just isn't possible."

"What isn't possible?"

"Murdoc always wore a ring exactly like that. It was like his signature," MacGyver ground out.

Joanna crawled across the bed until she was sitting next to Mac, a comforting hand placed gently on his back. She could feel his warm, taught muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"There have to be hundreds of rings like that roaming around," Jo reasoned. "You can't really believe it could be Murdoc's?"

"Just like I don't really believe in ghosts?" he countered.

"Mac, think about this logically."

"I am!" he exclaimed. "That's the problem!"

Joanna must have looked as bewildered as she felt because he continued without missing a beat. "Remember when I told you how Murdoc posed as that rock opera director, Jacques La Rue? It was then that he fell in love with Penny. And Penny thought she loved him when he was Jacques. It makes perfect sense that he would want to protect her and harm people he believed hurt her. And me? Well, I'm just a great big juicy bonus!"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Jo asked incredulously.

MacGyver must have considered it a rhetorical question because he didn't respond.

"Look, first thing tomorrow morning the three of us will go to that pawn shop and find out where that ring came from. Chances are some kid found it in an alley and decided to cash in."

"You're right," he acknowledged, sounding more like himself. "I'm just letting this stupid house get to me...again."

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The next day, MacGyver, Joanna, and Penny were standing outside the Cloverton Pawn Shop when the owner opened for business.

"What can I do for you folks?" the tall, lanky man asked.

Penny placed the ring on the counter.

"We were wondering if you remembered who sold you this ring," MacGyver said.

"Sure do!" the store owner replied. "One don't quite forget a piece like that. At least not around these parts. Guy who hocked it wanted to get rid of it real bad, too. Didn't even haggle over the price."

The trio looked at the man encouragingly and that was all it took for him to continue his story.

"Seems this guy was into buyin' stuff at estate sales and such. Said he'd been in L.A. when he'd seen this ring. Story goes it belonged to some big time secret assassin. The dude's been dead for over a year, but some of his possessions were found in an abandoned warehouse and sold off. But like I say, it's just a story. Probably to get people to pay more than the stuff is worth."

"Why was the man who sold it to you so anxious to get rid of it?" Penny asked.

"Can't rightly say. Some mumbo-jumbo about them poltergeists or somethin'. With what he was willin' to take, I wasn't gonna ask. Now, if you're thinkin' about returnin' that I'm 'fraid all sales are final."

"We understand," MacGyver assured him in a clipped tone. "Thanks for takin' the time to talk to us."

Penny retrieved the ring and the small group headed to the Jeep. The ride back to the B&B was completed in silence. MacGyver kept his jaw clenched and his spine stiff as his logical mind tried to make order of all he had heard and experienced. He glanced in the rearview mirror periodically, always to find Penny staring at the silver piece of jewelry in the palm of her hand.

When they arrived at the house it was to find guests milling about the gardens, enjoying the late summer day. Penny silently hurried from the car and into the kitchen to prepare the midday meal. Mac expected Joanna to follow her, but instead she followed him up the stairs and into their room. He sat down on the end of the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"This has to just be a big, freakish coincidence, right?" Jo asked, sitting down next to him but keeping space between them.

"Right," he muttered.

"I mean, everything that's happened can't be because of the ring. And the odds of Murdoc's ring showing up here after all this time have to be astronomical. Right?"

"Yeah," he murmured.

"So what now?"

"I gotta convince Penny to get rid of that ring."

Joanna's jaw dropped and in any other situation Mac probably would've laughed. "You seriously believe Murdoc's attached to that ring?" she asked.

"No. But Penny does and that's what matters."

Minutes later, Joanna had taken over cooking duties while MacGyver spoke with Penny in the living room.

"You want me to _what_?!" she cried, causing him to flinch.

"You gotta get rid of it. Throw it into the deepest lake you can find, bury it in the middle of nowhere. I don't care, just get it out of this house."

"But I thought you didn't believe in ghosts," she challenged, fingering the silver skull that now hung from a chain around her neck.

"Let's just say I prefer to play things safe these days," he grinned.

"Fine," she frowned.

"Hey, I know how you felt about him when you thought he was Jacques, but that wasn't him. It never was. It was all an elaborate act. It meant nothing."

"Yeah, sure," she agreed softly before heading back to the kitchen, her downcast eyes never leaving the floor.

XXXXX

"You all packed?" MacGyver asked from his side of the bed later that night.

"Yeah, I just wish we didn't have to leave so soon," Joanna bemoaned as she climbed under the covers on the other side.

"So then you wouldn't be opposed to coming back sometime?" He purposely flashed her the smile he knew she couldn't resist.

"I'd love to. But make it clear that we need separate rooms. I don't want Penny making any assumptions again."

Mac made a show of looking around until he found and caught her eyes.

"I don't know. I kinda like this one," he replied, his voice a bit raspy as he lost himself in the liquid chocolate depths. "Only next time we won't need the pillows as chaperones."

"What are you saying?" Jo asked suspiciously.

"Just thinkin' out loud," he replied smoothly, checking one final time to make sure the alarm clock was unplugged before sliding under the covers.

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In the room directly below the honeymoon suite, Penny lay on her bed facing the nightstand, staring at the silver death's head ring that seemed to be staring back. She thought back to that night so long ago when Murdoc had captured her, revealing his true identity, as Pete and MacGyver fought for their lives in an elaborate trap he had devised. She remembered trying to convince him that he was musical, charming, and romantic and how he told her she brought those qualities out in him. How he didn't know what it was like to smile until he met her. How he had fallen in love with her. And what was her response? She had called him insane right to his face, snuffing out any hint of hope or joy that may have been there. Now, in hindsight, perhaps he _had_ possessed some good qualities. Perhaps he really had loved her. MacGyver wanted her to get rid of the ring. But what if Murdoc's spirit was, indeed, attached to it, and he was even now watching over her, protecting her, loving her. She gently took the ring, placing it safely in the drawer of her nightstand. What MacGyver didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

 _ **Author's Note: Please forgive Mac and Joanna if they seem a bit out of character at times. Staying at Parker House will do that to you!**_


	26. Rolling Thunder

**Rolling Thunder**

Sam weaved his way around the cubicles that made up most of the third floor of the Chicago Tribune with one destination in mind: The desk of Rebecca Williams. True to his word, a few days after the fundraising gala in Milwaukee, he had asked Becca out to dinner. They had kept the evening light and casual as conversation and laughter flowed easily. They had gone out a few times since, and Sam now recognized his feelings for Becca were definitely testing the boundaries of friendship and threatening to spill over into something more. He wondered if she felt the same.

Rebecca was furiously typing away on her keyboard when Sam arrived at her 'office'.

"Big story?" he asked.

Becca looked up, her green eyes quickly finding his dark brown ones. There was a twinkle there he hadn't noticed before. Perhaps it hadn't _been_ there before.

"No, just trying to meet a tight deadline," she explained. "I can't believe I finally get an actual assignment and I'm gonna mess it up if I don't get it to the editor by the end of the day. By the way, how's your toe?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

"Still attached," he quipped, but when her frown stayed in place he sobered. "It's starting to feel better already and the doc says the new nail should grow back just fine."

Their most recent date had included an excursion to a local bowling alley. Despite Rebecca's protests that she was a first-class klutz and lousy bowler, Sam had insisted she couldn't be as bad as she thought and now he was paying the price. He had been standing behind her, giving her encouraging advice as she approached the alley, swinging the ball behind her when it slipped from her fingers only to land squarely on his big toe. Emergency room x-rays showed nothing was broken, and Sam put on a brave face in spite of the pain to keep Becca from feeling too badly. Now, five days later, he was finally able to walk without a limp, at least when other people were present.

"I wanted to let you know that Joanna and my dad invited us up to Milwaukee for the Labor Day Weekend. The Harley-Davidson motorcycle dealerships are throwing big block parties for the 94th anniversary of the company and they thought we'd like to go."

Rebecca looked at him as if he had grown a second nose and third eye.

"Do you have any idea how much crime occurs in Chicago over a holiday weekend?! I could get three front page stories just by standing on a street corner for an hour! I can't leave the city!"

"Whoa," Sam held up his hands in surrender. "Don't get all riled up. It's not that big a deal, okay?"

"Okay," she responded, a bit calmer.

"Then I guess I'll see you when I get back on Tuesday." Sam shot her his most devastatingly charming smile before turning his back and walking away...slowly.

"Sam, wait!"

The photojournalist turned to find Becca's head popping out of her cubicle and he swallowed a grin of satisfaction.

"Change your mind?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

"Yeah, I guess," she admitted, blushing furiously as she made her way toward him. "I mean, I hear that Harley's a big deal up there. Maybe I could still get a good story and have some fun at the same time."

"That's the spirit!" Sam praised her. "I figure we'll drive up on Saturday. I'll bunk with my dad and you can stay with Jo since her folks are out of town visiting relatives. We'll have a great time!"

In the distance, they heard Rebecca's computer ding, indicating she had a new e-mail message. Together, they returned to her cubicle where she clicked the mouse a couple times before the new message popped up on the screen.

"What is it?" Sam asked, peering over her shoulder.

"It's an FBI press release. They're asking for our help."

Sam's eyebrows raised. "Do they do that often?"

"It depends," Becca shrugged.

"What's this one about?"

"They want us to be on the lookout for a guy named Louis Lambista, one of the kingpins of an international smuggling operation."

Becca clicked the mouse again and Lambista's image appeared on her screen. His face was square and meaty, topped with a mass of curly black hair and made all the more menacing by a pair of dark, close set eyes.

"Nice lookin' dude," Sam commented facetiously, earning a scowl from his friend. "What's his story?"

Rebecca continued to read from the email. "It says here that Louis and his goons have been ripping off custom car parts and shipping them out of the Port of Chicago for overseas distribution."

"Car parts?" Sam wrinkled his nose. "Aren't these guys usually into drugs or weapons?"

Becca shrugged. "Apparently not. It goes on to say that they've even been known to smuggle blue jeans. I guess a lot of European and Asian countries want regular American stuff and are willing to pay to get it."

Just then, the police scanner Rebecca kept on the corner of her desk crackled to life, drawing her attention away from the missive on the computer. Though Sam could hardly make out a word, Becca urgently scribbled information in the small notebook she always carried.

"I gotta run! There's been a jewelry store robbery a few blocks from here and if I'm quick enough I could get the scoop!" With that, she shot out of her chair and down the aisle, Sam on her heels in case she needed a photographer.

XXXXX

Sam settled himself at MacGyver's kitchen table late Saturday morning, a glass of orange juice in front of him and Becca at his side.

"So Joanna and I thought today we'd check out the block party at a dealership a couple miles from here and then tomorrow we can rent bikes to ride in the parade to the lakefront where there will be a big food and musical festival before the celebration ends with a fireworks display over Lake Michigan."

"Gosh, Dad, I didn't think you'd have us on such a tight itinerary."

Mac frowned. "Did you guys have something else in mind?"

"No," Sam replied. "But when did you become such a planner?"

"I'm afraid that was my idea," Joanna responded from across the table. "The city started this annual celebration for Harley's 90th and every year it gets bigger so it's best to have a good idea of what you want to do before heading out."

"Makes sense to me," he agreed. "But I didn't realize you were a big motorcycle fan."

Jo smiled and glanced at his dad before replying. "I know you and Mac like to ride, but I'm more of an admirer. It's hard not to have a little Harley in your blood when you're born and raised in Milwaukee. Besides, my grandpa worked with the original owners so there's kinda a family connection."

"Wow, he must have had a lot of great stories to tell!" Becca exclaimed, no doubt smelling a feature story.

"Actually, he died when my mom was young. She's told me what she remembers from that time, though."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the younger woman's face fell.

"It's okay," Jo smiled. "That's what events like these are for. It gives you a chance to be part of history and feel connected to past generations."

"Speaking of history, I'm afraid I don't know much about the company," Rebecca lamented even as she pulled her notebook from her purse. "What can you tell me?"

"Well, the company was founded in 1903 right here in Milwaukee by William S. Harley and Arthur Davidson. They built their first bikes in a backyard shed and by 1923 they were the world's largest motorcycle manufacturer." MacGyver cleared his throat and Joanna stopped.

"Do you think you could cover the next seventy years in the car? We'll miss the whole party at this rate."

Joanna pulled a face before chuckling. "Actually, that's about all I know."

"But what makes a Harley so special?" Becca asked, truly perplexed.

All three of her companions grinned broadly.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Sam assured her.

XXXXX

The street housing the nearest Harley-Davidson dealership was cordoned off for several blocks allowing vendors to set up tents to sell food, apparel, and souvenirs. Local bands serenaded the revelers and cycle owners proudly displayed their 'hogs'. Of course, the showroom was open and eager salesmen were on hand for anyone wishing to purchase the ultimate memento. Sam's pulse began to pound in time to the low, rhythmic rumble of hundreds of finely tuned riding machines and he swore he could feel reverberations through the concrete beneath his shoes.

"Hear that?" he asked Rebecca as the foursome walked towards the festivities. "It's called 'rolling thunder'. No other sound like it in the world! That's _one_ thing that makes these bikes special."

"Okay, so they're old and loud. I still don't get what's so unique about them."

Joanna threw her head back and laughed even as she held MacGyver's hand to keep from getting separated in the throng of people just ahead of them.

"That's just the point!" she exclaimed. "Each bike is unique!"

She reached out with her free hand, grabbed Rebecca's forearm, and steered all three of them to a row of parked motorcycles.

"Take a look," she directed and stepped aside as Becca inspected a few of the vehicles. "Think all that leather and chrome comes standard? Harley owners pride themselves on making their bikes their own whether it's a one-of-a-kind paint job or customized parts. People spend thousands of dollars on special accessories."

Becca turned toward Jo, her eyes wide behind her glasses. "Did you say custom parts?"

"Hey, I'm starving!" Sam unceremoniously interrupted them, reaching for Rebecca's hand in the process. "Let's grab some food!"

Becca glared at him and he glared back.

"I know what you're thinking," he hissed, "And you can just forget about it. There's no story here. At least not _that_ one."

"But Sam…" she protested as he pulled her along.

"No. Lambista is a big-time bad guy. Just let it go."

Sam wasn't sure where his protective instincts came from or why they were so strong, but there was no way he was going to let Rebecca even try to track down the smuggler.

"C'mon, let's just enjoy the day, okay?" he cajoled as they stood in line at a concession stand waiting to place their order.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "I guess I get a little over-eager when it comes to getting a big story. I'm sorry."

"Not a problem," Sam assured her as he let go of her hand so he could pay for their food.

The two couples spent the rest of the afternoon admiring bikes, talking to their owners, listening to music, and browsing vendors selling everything from collectible trinkets to expensive leather outerwear. Rebecca and Joanna each bought a commemorative t-shirt emblazoned with the famous Harley-Davidson emblem while Sam caught his dad eyeing a Harley Sportster.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" MacGyver asked his son.

"Sure is," Sam replied.

"I still can't believe I trashed my cycle on our road trip."

"Look on the bright side, you still have your Jeep and the Nomad."

"I know. It's just not the same," Mac lamented.

As Sam turned to look for Becca and Joanna, he bumped into a boulder of a man. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a black leather vest he was obviously a rider. Sam looked up to mutter 'excuse me', but the words caught in his throat as he found himself staring into the beady eyes of a square-jawed, black curly-haired...smuggler?

"Ex...Excuse me," he stammered before slipping around the man and back into the street.

"What was that all about?" MacGyver asked as he caught up with his son.

"Nothing!"

Mac put a hand on Sam's shoulder, forcing his son to stand still. "It kinda looked like something to me."

Sam sighed and pulled his dad into the relatively privacy of a vendor's tent.

"Before we left Chicago, Becca got this memo at work about a smuggling kingpin who looks very much like the guy I bumped into back there."

"Do you think it's him?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "The guy goes after custom auto parts, so custom motorcycle parts wouldn't be that much of a stretch. And this _is_ a good place to blend in and poke around."

"We should alert security just in case," Mac suggested.

"Yeah, but can we keep this just between us for right now, if you know what I mean?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder to where Rebecca and Joanna stood talking.

"You bet," his dad promised.

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MacGyver eased the Nomad to the curb in front of Joanna's house on Sunday morning. Her car wasn't in the driveway, but with her parents gone, she was probably using the garage.

"Now remember, don't say anything about the guy I told you about yesterday," Sam coached. "I don't want Becca getting involved."

"Don't you think that should be her decision?" Mac asked turning to his son. "After all, breaking this type of story would really help her career."

"I just don't want her putting herself in danger."

"Like your mom did?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"Okay, I promise not to say anything. Now let's get a move on."

Rebecca greeted the two men at the door before either had a chance to ring the bell. She was wearing jeans and the Harley t-shirt she had bought the day before and wore her slightly untamed hair in a tight ponytail.

"Great timing!" she exclaimed cheerfully, closing the door behind her.

"Where's Joanna?" Mac asked. Something wasn't right.

"Cynthia's short-handed at Challengers today so she went to help out. She said we should just have a good time without her."

Becca tried to head for the car, but MacGyver stopped her.

"Wait a minute! Why didn't she call me? I'd have gladly gone in her place so she could enjoy today."

"That's what she said you would say and that's why she didn't call you."

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Whatever was he going to do with that woman?

XXXXX

Unlike the previous day, the street in front of the Harley dealership they had visited was now stripped of tents, vendors, and musicians. Instead, motorcycles ruled the road waiting to ride off and join up with groups from other block parties around the city and eventually end up at the lakefront for one big party. MacGyver noticed that the police presence had exponentially increased as well, but he figured that was par for the course. The trio slowly made their way through the mob of bikes and riders to the tent where they would rent two bikes for the day as well as a helmet for Becca since Mac and Sam had both brought their own. MacGyver watched as Rebecca settled into the seat behind his son and wrapped her arms firmly around his waist. He sighed inwardly. For days he'd been looking forward to riding tandem with Jo, imagining the feel of her arms around him, her laughter floating on the air as they sailed down the open road. But that wouldn't be happening...at least not today. He brushed the thought aside and prepared to mount his own temporary cycle when he heard a small group of riders talking animatedly about what seemed to be a recent theft.

"Excuse me!" he called over the din of voices and engines. "Did I hear you say something about a theft?"

A young woman wearing a leather halter top and jeans nodded vigorously.

"The cops were here first thing this morning. Seems three bikes got ripped off last night."

"From the party?" Mac asked the woman who had yet to provide a name.

"Nope. From the garage. Their owners were having them customized for the parade today. Man, you should've been here when they found out!"

"I'm glad I wasn't," MacGyver murmured before thanking the woman for the information.

He looked around at what had to be a hundred or more bikers ready to get rolling and then he looked over at Sam who was smiling at something Becca must have said. Was this the work of the smuggler Sam thought he saw? Did he have two other cronies with him? Would they have the audacity to ride the stolen bikes through town? An announcement over the loudspeaker asking riders to mount up broke into his thoughts. He once again noticed the number of police in place. This was their job. Not his. But that didn't mean he wouldn't help out if the opportunity presented itself.

Thirty minutes later MacGyver was relishing the feel of the powerful engine beneath him as he glided down the interstate. Man, he missed this feeling. It was almost like skating, but on concrete. Knowing that hundreds more riders followed him only increased his sense of exhilaration and he silently thanked Joanna for seeing to it that he didn't miss out on this experience. They had been on the road for about fifteen minutes when a trio of motorcycles suddenly peeled away from the group and veered off the highway at the next exit. Recalling that three Harleys had been stolen this morning, Mac decided to follow just in case. To his dismay, the image of Sam's bike soon appeared in his side view mirror.

"What are you doing?" his son called above the noise of the traffic.

"Nevermind! Just go back to the others!" Mac ordered, but Sam only steered his cycle closer.

"You think they had something to do with the thefts?"

Great. So Sam and Becca knew about that too.

"That's what I wanna find out!" Mac shouted back.

"Then we're coming with you!" Sam insisted.

MacGyver wanted to protest, but they were now bobbing and weaving through city streets and he had to keep his eyes on the road as well as the three suspicious riders. It soon became apparent that they were all headed for the Port of Milwaukee. Traffic diminished significantly and Mac slowed, indicating for Sam to do the same. His intent was to observe and call the cops if needed. Unfortunately, a large semi-truck took the opportunity to slowly pull out in front of them, causing them to lose sight of their prey. Was it a coincidence or a planned diversion?

Once the truck had moved enough for them to pass the three motorcycles were out of sight. Mac stopped his bike and Sam pulled alongside. MacGyver scanned their present surroundings. Large warehouses sat eerily vacant, many of their windows broken or missing. A few dilapidated factories dotted what must have been a once thriving industrial section of the city.

"What do we do now?" Sam asked, the engine of his bike still purring.

Mac was about to suggest they turn back and report what they saw to the authorities, but before his mouth could form the words, his gaze fell on tire tracks in the gravel... _fresh_ tire tracks. He turned the key to silence his cycle and dismounted.

"We go on foot from here," he said quietly.

On high alert and walking as quietly as possible, the trio followed the tracks which ended at, of all things, an abandoned motorcycle plant. They flattened their backs against the rough brick exterior, listening for voices but hearing none. After several minutes, MacGyver peeked through a busted out window. In the center of the large factory sat three brand new Harley-Davidson motorcycles, but their riders appeared to be absent.

"I'm gonna check it out," he whispered. "Stay here." He crouched low and began to make his way to a steel door when he felt his son's presence behind him.

"I thought I told you to stay put!" he scolded, still in a whisper. Not only had Sam followed him, but Rebecca had followed Sam!

"But this could be the break I've been waiting for!" the normally quiet Rebecca insisted. "I'm going in there!"

Mac sighed and turned away. They were wasting precious time arguing, not to mention making more noise than he would have preferred. With a slight wave of his hand, he motioned them to follow him. They finally made it to the door, only to discover it was locked.

"Sam, keep an eye out for any visitors," he directed, digging in his pant pocket and pulling out his Swiss Army knife.

In less than a minute he had picked the locked and slowly opened the door which creaked with age. Upon entering the large space, they stood still and listened once again. Certain they were still alone, they approached the bikes. Two were still in mint condition, but the third was already in the process of being dismantled.

"Hey, what's that over there?" Becca asked.

MacGyver looked to where she pointed.

"Looks like a shipping container," he replied. "Let's check it out."

Large boxes were stacked next to the container, no doubt waiting to be put inside.

"Look at this!" Rebecca gasped.

Mac and Sam hurried to where she had opened a box and now held up shiny new motorcycle parts. Knowing what they'd find, but still needing to confirm it, the two men opened other boxes containing more of the same.

"This _has_ to be Lambista!" she exclaimed.

"And so it is!" a deep, menacing voice echoed eerily through the empty building.

They were standing out in the open, unprotected, when the first bullet whizzed by Mac's ear. Needing no further motivation, they scattered and ran for cover as more bullets flew, pinging off metal machinery. When the barrage stopped, MacGyver urgently looked for Sam and found his son and Becca hiding behind a large sheet metal press. Mac made some quick hand motions and trusted that Sam would be able to decipher them. MacGyver then made his way to yet another large machine and punched the 'on' button, but nothing happened. He grimaced. They needed something to distract Lambista long enough to make an escape. Using his knife once more, he unscrewed the panel next to the power button and tugged at the wiring, stripping the thin insulation off two of them and then touching them together. They sparked and the decrepit contraption roared to life, causing a wide conveyor belt to chug into action.

"Now!" Mac yelled as he ran for the door. He could feel Sam on his heels. But when he turned to slam the door shut it was just the two of them. Rebecca hadn't made it out.

"Dad! We have to go back for her!"

The gunshots had started up again and Mac knew that in order for all of them to survive, he and Sam had to run.

"Not now! Just go!" Mac pushed Sam ahead of him as the two stumbled away from the factory.

Several minutes later, hidden in an empty warehouse, father and son breathed heavily from their sprint to relative safety.

"We have to get Becca out of there!" Sam pleaded between breaths. "What if they already killed her?!"

"They won't kill her, Sam. Not as long as we're still out here. They know we all saw the same thing."

"And they'll use her for bait to lure us back and kill us all," the younger man concluded.

"Afraid so."

"So what's the plan?"

"Right now we sit tight and wait. They'll be watching for us. We have to give them time to let their guard down a bit," MacGyver explained, wishing he felt as rational as he sounded. He could only imagine what Sam must be going through. He would be going out of his mind if that was Joanna in there and even though his son didn't have that type of relationship with Becca, he knew Sam cared for her and he promised himself they would all make it out of this ordeal alive.

MacGyver looked at his watch.

"What time is it?" Sam asked.

"Five minutes later than the last time you asked."

Sam sighed. "When are we going to do something?"

Mac watched as the door to the factory swung open and three men walked out, headed toward the dock.

"I'd say right about now," Mac replied.

Together, he and Sam cautiously approached the old plant. MacGyver looked in one of the busted out windows. Becca was alive, but she was gagged and bound to the sheet metal press.

"Take a look," he urged his son. "When we get in, go straight to Rebecca. I'll watch your back."

Sam nodded once to show he understood before they both eased through the doorway. While MacGyver kept a lookout for any unwanted guests, his son made a beeline for his friend, pulled out his own Swiss Army knife, and cut her loose. A gunshot sounded just as she pulled the gag from her mouth. Sam tugged her down behind the big machine and his dad soon joined them.

"Now what?" Sam asked as Rebecca clung to him.

MacGyver looked around, mentally cataloguing the items that still haunted the old factory.

"Stay here. And this time I mean it!" Mac instructed before he sprinted toward a large, flat piece of metal lying several yards away. He bent to pick it up and was thankful it wasn't as heavy as it looked, but hopefully it was still strong enough to stop a speeding bullet...or at least significantly slow it down.

"Decide to come back for the girl, did you?" Lambista called, still out of view and hopefully bullet range.

MacGyver didn't reply but pulled the metal sheet over to the press machine.

"Here. We can use this as a shield until we get to the door," he told Sam and Becca who immediately grabbed onto the large piece of metal and crouched behind it, taking small steps.

They were halfway to their destination when gunfire erupted once more. This time, bullets came from every direction, a couple hitting their makeshift barrier but ricocheting off. Mac didn't know how many hits the metal could take and he wasn't planning on finding out, but soon they were backed up against a wall.

"There are too many of them," Rebecca cried. "We'll never make it to the door!"

"Maybe we don't have to," Mac told her, looking up at the broken window above their heads.

"How are we going to climb out without getting shot?" Sam challenged. "We can't exactly carry that big piece of metal with us."

His son was right, but they hadn't lost the battle yet. Once more, in desperation, MacGyver looked around for anything that could serve as a weapon or diversion. Nothing. At least nothing within arm's reach. He absently took a step sideways and felt something connect with his booted foot. He looked down and saw a gas can. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell whether or not it still actually held any fluid.

"I've got an idea," he told Sam, slanting his eyes toward the metal container. "When things get hot, you two climb out that window and don't look back."

"But Dad…"

"I'll be right behind you."

The bad guys were fast approaching and bullets continued to fly. Mac slid his foot sideways, knocking over the gas can. Thankfully, fuel began to spill from it immediately. Grabbing a strike anywhere match from his pocket, he flicked it against the wall and threw it on the stream of gasoline which quickly ignited to create a wall of fire between them and the smugglers. MacGyver watched as Sam shrugged out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around Rebecca to protect her from any stray shards of glass before boosting her up until she could reach the opening above. The flames grew as she shimmied through the small space. Then it was Sam's turn. He jumped up, just grabbing the window's edge before looking down at his dad.

"Go!"

At MacGyver's command, Sam pulled himself up and disappeared through the window. Lambista and his men were yelling curses as Mac scrambled up the wall and out the opening, dropping to the ground several feet below. Sam and Becca were already running towards their motorcycles. MacGyver took a deep breath and kicked it into high gear. Angry shouts came from the burning building, but there were no more gunshots. Quickly making it to their bikes, they hopped on, revved the engines, and headed for the nearest police station.

XXXXX

After being grilled by police detectives and local FBI agents, it was almost suppertime when the trio emerged into the lobby of the precinct, finally free to return home. Mac's eyes immediately slammed into Joanna's. She had never looked more beautiful...or more upset.

"Thank God you're alright!" she cried.

He opened his arms to embrace her, but was met only by air as she breezed past him and Sam to embrace Becca.

"I never should have let you go off alone with these two," she said, both scolding herself and apologizing to their friend.

Rebecca shook her head. "It's okay. I…"

"I should have listened to you and called MacGyver as soon as I heard from Cynthia," Joanna continued unabated. "Now let's go home so you can get cleaned up." She put a protective arm around the other woman's shoulders and led her out the glass front doors.

"Hey, what about us?!" Mac called.

"You're creative. You'll figure something out," Jo retorted without breaking stride.

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Sam asked, his voice colored with concern.

"Jo'll be fine. She was just worried about us," Mac replied optimistically, hoping he was right.

"I meant Becca," his son clarified, somewhat self-consciously.

"Oh! Um...yeah...she has a lot of spunk. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Sam shook his head. "She wasn't very happy about getting scooped by that reporter and becoming part of the news instead of covering it."

"I wouldn't worry about it," MacGyver declared. "Maybe she could write a piece from the first-person point of view."

"Yeah," Sam replied, brightening a bit.

Upon arriving back at the duplex, Mac showered first so he could make supper while his son cleaned up. Sam had just trotted down the winding staircase and looked at the food already on the table.

"Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

"What?! After the day we had you expect haute cuisine?"

"Did you hear from Joanna or Becca yet?" Sam asked, changing the subject as he bit into his sandwich.

"No. I figure they need some space."

"You mean Joanna has to cool down."

"That too," Mac smiled. "We'll go over first thing tomorrow so you and Rebecca can get on the road."

Sam put down his sandwich and stared at his father.

"What?" Mac asked, knowing his son had something on his mind.

"When did you know?"

Kids. They sure had a way of confusing a person. "Know what?"

"That you loved Joanna."

MacGyver choked slightly as he swallowed a spoonful of soup.

"I don't know," Mac answered in something embarrassingly akin to a whine as he shoved a hand through his still-damp hair. "There wasn't just _one_ moment...why do you ask?" Yeah! Way to go! Turn the tables on the kid!

"I was just wondering," Sam replied softly, gently stirring his soup with his spoon but not making an attempt to eat any.

Mac recognized the symptoms.

"You have feelings for Rebecca," he concluded.

Sam shrugged. "I like her, if that's what you mean."

"That's _not_ what I mean and you know it."

"We've gone on a few dates and now, after what happened today, I can't imagine not having her around. Ya know? I mean, I know I haven't had as much experience with women as you, but there's just something special about Becca."

"Then stop thinking so much about it and just enjoy her," Mac advised. "If you're meant to be together it'll happen."

"Then why didn't it happen with you and my mom."

Mac grimaced.

"Sorry. That was hitting below the belt," Sam apologized.

"No. Nothin' to be sorry about. I loved your mother, but we wanted different things and were too young to figure out how to make it work. But every couple's different. If you feel something for Rebecca, give it a chance and don't give up when things get tough."

"Is that what you did with Joanna?"

Mac nodded. "And it's something we're both still doing."

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"I hope mac and cheese from a box is okay," Joanna announced as Rebecca shuffled into the kitchen. Fresh from the shower, she wore a baggy sweatsuit and had her long, damp hair piled in a messy knot on the top of her head. "I thought we'd be eating at the Harley picnic so I didn't bother to get much food in the house."

"Are you still mad at them?" Becca asked cautiously as Jo spooned the gooey noodles into the bowl in front of her.

"I don't know," Joanna sighed. "Maybe I'm more angry with myself. All I know is that they shouldn't have gotten you involved. This sort of thing is second nature to Mac, and even Sam, but-"

"It's not your fault," Becca interrupted, surprising Jo at the force behind her words. "And it's not Mac's fault either. _I'm_ the one who started the whole thing."

"What do you mean?" Joanna asked slowly as she sat down in her chair.

"Back in Chicago I got this email at the Tribune alerting everyone to be on the lookout for a smuggler name Louis Lambista. He specializes in custom car parts. Then, this morning, Sam and I overheard that three custom bikes had been stolen. When MacGyver started following the cycles, I urged Sam to do the same. And then when we got to the old factory, Mac told us to hide but Sam insisted on following and, of course, I wasn't about to be left behind. Then I tripped and got caught while trying to escape. If you're going to blame someone, blame me."

Joanna's heart softened at Rebecca's dismay. "I guess there's plenty of blame to go around," she observed.

"Just don't be too angry with Sam and his dad," Becca pleaded.

"You really have a thing for him, don't you?"

Becca's eyes grew wide. "How can you tell?"

Joanna shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it takes one to know one. Everyone seemed to know Mac and I were crazy about each other even before _we_ did."

"But Sam just thinks of me as a friend and fellow journalist."

"Are you sure about that?"

Rebecca looked down, regarding herself. "Trust me. Guys never think of me as more than just a friend. Especially great guys like Sam."

"I find that hard to believe," Jo replied. "Especially after seeing Sam's face when he saw you all dressed up for the fundraising gala. And the fact that he risked his life today in order to save yours."

"Yeah, but-"

"No 'buts'! I felt the same way about Mac, thinking he could never be interested in someone like me. We both wasted a lot of time worrying about what the other thought. I don't want you and Sam to make that mistake. Just enjoy each other and see where it leads."

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Labor Day morning Sam pulled his VW Bug into Joanna's driveway, his dad in the passenger seat. Together they walked to the front door where Rebecca greeted them.

"Hi. Dad and I thought we'd take you and Jo out to breakfast before heading home," Sam declared.

"That sounds great, but Joanna's not here."

Mac groaned. For the second time in twenty-four hours she had bailed on him.

"Here," Rebecca said, holding out a small piece of paper. "She said to have me and Sam drop you off at this address on our way out of town."

MacGyver studied the numbers Jo had written down. It was the address to the Harley-Davidson dealership they had visited over the weekend.

"What is it, Dad?"

"I don't know," Mac answered, his brows knit in confusion.

Sam plucked the piece of paper from his dad's fingers. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Ten minutes later, after loading Becca's luggage into the car, Sam pulled into the deserted dealership parking lot where vacant tents now stood. Joanna's car was parked out front, but she had seemingly disappeared. Mac crawled out of the car with trepidation. He hadn't spoken to her since seeing her at the police precinct and Rebecca had refused to give him any insight into what this little escapade was all about.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" Sam asked.

"Naw, I'll be fine. Have a safe trip."

"Sure thing," Sam confirmed as he pulled out onto the street and headed for the interstate.

MacGyver watched his son leave before going in search of Joanna. He pulled the handles on the glass doors to the showroom, but they were locked as he had expected. Cupping his hands around his eyes to block out the sunlight, he peered through the windows, but the place was deserted. No doubt employees were recuperating from the weekend party. Not knowing what else to do, he began to walk the perimeter of the building, calling Jo's name as he went with no response. As he turned into the back alley, his breath caught. There in front of him, Joanna straddled the exact same Harley Sportster he had been admiring only two days earlier. The saucy grin on her face the only thing able to outshine the cycle.

"Let me guess. You're still mad about yesterday and plan on running me over with that thing," he said, only half teasingly.

"Wrong on both counts," she replied, swinging herself off the motorcycle. "Becca explained everything last night and I realized I owe you an apology. I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday. When I heard about what happened, I was so scared for you."

"How _did_ you hear about it," MacGyver asked, having wondered how she had ended up at the police station in the first place.

"Are you kidding?!" she laughed. "It was all over the TV news. Even Becca's interview."

"Oh, she's gonna love hearing that!" Mac quipped before turning serious. "I'm really sorry I frightened you. It won't happen again."

"Oh yes, it will," Jo contradicted. "But next time I'll try to be a little more understanding."

MacGyver fought the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but there was still one item that needed to be taken care of.

"So, what's with the bike?" he asked.

Joanna turned toward the chrome and steel machine.

"I saw you looking at it yesterday. A friend of mine from college works at Harley so I contacted him and worked out a deal."

Mac's jaw dropped. "Jo, you shouldn't have," he admonished huskily.

"Well, technically, I didn't...buy it, if that's what you mean," she smirked. "Consider it a donation to Challengers. There's only one caveat."

"Oh yeah, and what would that be?" he asked, looping his arms around her waist.

"You're the only person allowed to ride it."

"That might be a problem," he frowned, looking at the bike.

"Why?"

"It's a two-seater and I may not want to ride alone," he explained.

"Hmmm, in that case we need a caveat to the caveat."

"Oh yeah?" he grinned.

"Yeah," she replied, reaching up to pull his face closer to hers. "Make that you and I are the only ones allowed to ride it."

"I'll sign off on that," Mac promised as his lips found hers, his heart beating in time to the distant sound of rolling thunder as hundreds of Harley riders left town, if only for another year.


	27. Everyone But Him

**Everyone But Him**

MacGyver scrambled down the spiral staircase, grabbed an apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter and his keys from the hook on the wall. He had overslept and was late for work. He couldn't believe it. He _never_ overslept. He opened the front door and almost barreled over his mail carrier.

"Hey Gertie, what's up?" he greeted her quickly.

"I'm glad I caught you. I have a package here you need to sign for."

Mac's eyebrows knitted together in a questioning frown as he scribbled his name and took the rather small box. It was heavier than it looked. He planned to leave it on the counter and open it when he got home, but then he glanced at the return address. It was from Neil Ryder, his boyhood friend in Mission City. What on earth would Neil send him, especially without calling to give him a heads up? No longer concerned about arriving late to Challengers, MacGyver grabbed his Swiss Army knife from his pocket and sliced through the packing tape. Opening the flaps of the cardboard box, he spotted a white envelope with his name on it. Taking it to the couch he sat down to read it.

 _Mac:_

 _A construction crew is renovating the nursing home that used to be your old house. One of the workers found this behind a wall and I figured you'd want it. Wish I could have delivered it in person._

 _Neil_

MacGyver now looked down at the wooden box on his lap, his mother's name ornately carved into the top. A sudden wave of memories knocked Mac's breath from his lungs. His mother used to call this her 'treasure chest'. He remembered her tucking away handmade birthday cards he had given her and the silver 'necklace' he had created out of paperclips and duct tape. She had said it was too special to keep in her regular jewelry box. He took a deep breath and gingerly opened the hinged top. Sure enough, there was her 'necklace' along with greeting cards made from colorful construction paper and decorated with crayon pictures and the lettering of a young boy. Of him. Digging a bit deeper, he came upon a stack of his grade school report cards secured with a rubber band. He chuckled to himself and tossed the packet onto the coffee table. He would look at those later. At the bottom of the box lay another envelope. This one was yellowed with age and had his name...his _whole_ name...written on the outside. His hands stilled and his eyes became misty as he immediately recognized his mother's flowing script. He opened the envelope and as he removed the single piece of paper, two thin gold bands, one with a small diamond in the center and both in desperate need of polishing, fell out and into the box. Mac quickly unfolded the letter and began to read:

 _My Dearest Angus,_

 _If you are reading this letter, I am no longer of this earth. But please do not grieve for me as I am finally reunited with your dear father which is something I have longed for these many years past._

 _By now a pair of rings have probably fallen out of the envelope. They were your Grandma Cecilia's engagement and wedding rings. After her funeral, Harry gifted them to me and I thought it only right to pass them down to you, my beloved only child. It is my greatest hope that you will find a woman in your life to wear these, but perhaps that is just the wishful thinking of an old lady. As I write this, you are far away, still full of wanderlust. Besides, girls of your generation are sure to want something flashy and expensive. Therefore, do what you will with this token of your grandfather's love toward your grandmother._

 _The good Lord alone knows when and where this message will find you my adventurous son, but know that wherever you go and whatever you do, you take my love with you._

 _Until we meet again,_

 _Mom_

 _P.S. Always remember: "Ice Cream!"_

MacGyver closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep threatening tears at bay as he took deep breaths to calm the inner swell of emotion. He knew exactly who would wear these rings and she would cherish them just as his mother wished. The bigger question was when would he finally put old fears aside and do what he had been wanting to do for so long now? Was the arrival of this gift at this time just an ironic coincidence, or was there a greater message behind it? Mac tenderly fingered the gold bands before returning them to the envelope along with his mother's parting words to him.

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"I'm gonna kill him," Joanna grunted as she pushed an overstuffed chair against the wall so she could scrub the floor beneath it. "He asked me to come in extra early on a Saturday morning to help get the place in shape for the six month grant review next week and he's a no-show!"

"Something probably came up," Cynthia shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I guess," Jo reluctantly agreed. "But it's not like him not to call and let us know." She knew all too well that MacGyver took his job and commitments seriously. Sometimes a little too seriously. "I hope he's okay."

Cynthia chuckled. "A minute ago you were ready to kill him. Now you're concerned about his welfare?"

"When I find out he's all right, _then_ I'm gonna kill him," Jo replied, a smile tugging at her lips. Just then the telephone rang.

"That's probably him now," Cynthia said with obvious relief. Joanna let her colleague take the call as she picked up her mop again.

"That was the bookstore," Cynthia announced a few minutes later. "The novels you ordered are in and ready to be picked up."

"Finally! I want to get them all out on display for when Pete and the board members from Phoenix get here. Mind if I go get them?"

"Why don't you call MacGyver and have him pick them up on his way in?"

"But then I wouldn't have an excuse to take a break from cleaning," Joanna smirked as she propped the mop up against the wall and grabbed her purse, her car keys already jingling. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time. I'll hold off the dust bunnies!"

Jo pushed through the main doors and out into the mid-September sunshine. She took a deep breath of the unseasonably warm air before getting into her car. Given the nice weather and light weekend traffic, she decided to take the scenic route. She had started her part time teaching job at Lincoln High School a couple weeks ago and, though she enjoyed it immensely, between that and her duties at Challengers she had precious little time to enjoy the waning days of summer. She was accelerating away from a stop sign when a rabbit darted out into the narrow road, freezing a few yards in front of her. Knowing she could never stop in time to avoid hitting the frightened animal, she jerked the steering wheel to the right before stomping down on the brake pedal. Unfortunately, her tires caught in the gravel on the side of the road, sending the car skidding head first into a large tree. Joanna felt the sting of her seatbelt against her neck before it suddenly released. The last thing she remembered was her forehead hitting the steering wheel before everything went black.

XXXXX

Joanna sat up in her hospital bed, her mother in a chair next to her, their hands joined. Her father stood staring out the window. Given his aversion to hospitals, his presence in the small emergency room bay was a testament to the scare she had given her parents. They were currently waiting for the results of her CT scan. She had been unconscious during her rescue and ambulance ride to the ER, but the doctor on-call had told her that a passerby had witnessed her accident and called 911. She drifted in and out of consciousness while various medical personnel tended to the cut on her forehead and bruises on her neck and collarbone before she was whisked away to radiology. It was only after her return from the scan, when she was finally fully awake and had satisfactorily answered questions to test her memory, that her parents were allowed to join her.

"I couldn't find Mac's phone number, but I called Cynthia at Challengers," Judy Fairfax said, breaking the silence. "She promised to tell him about your accident as soon as he gets in."

"Thanks," Jo responded before a handsome man in a white lab coat asked permission to enter.

"Hello Ms. Fairfax. I'm Dr. Chandler, the on-call neurologist."

Joanna smiled at him as her heart pounded faster. The rate increase having nothing to do with the pain in her head but with the handsome physician in front of her. His dark brown hair was cut short and neatly styled while his blue eyes seemed to twinkle of their own accord. She could tell he was fit, even with the lab coat draping his tall frame. Her eyes automatically strayed to his hands which held a metal clipboard. No wedding ring. Yes! When she looked up again it was to find him watching her with a knowing smile that made her blush. Finding her voice, she introduced him to her parents.

"I have the results of your CT scan and I must say you are a very lucky lady." He moved closer the end of her bed. "Aside from the cut on your forehead and the contusions from the seatbelt, you only have a very mild concussion. Now that we know you have no further injuries I'm prescribing something for your headache."

She heard her mother breathe a sigh of relief. "When can we take her home?"

"Normally I'd say as soon as she feels up to it, but given the length of time she was unconscious I'd like to keep her here the rest of the day for observation. If everything checks out she'll be home before bedtime." Then he turned his attention to Joanna. "Of course, she'll have to promise to follow all my instructions and take it easy for the next few days," he said with a wink that caused her stomach to flutter.

"What about work? Mac needs me?"

"Who's Mac?"

"My boss." Joanna thought she glimpsed a look of surprise on her mother's face but she was too focused on her own concerns to question it.

"Well, he'll just have to be patient. I don't want you trying to resume all your normal activities at once."

As if their conversation had conjured him, she looked to find MacGyver standing in the doorway. His shaggy, dark-blonde hair, brown, beady eyes and oddly shaped lips a stark, and unwelcome, contrast to the attractive doctor.

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MacGyver stood in the doorway to the emergency room bay that housed Joanna and her family. She was sitting up in bed, listening to something the doctor was saying, a white gauze dressing peeking out from beneath her bangs the only obvious indication she had been in a car wreck. Since Cynthia had given him the news he felt as if a steel band was wrapped around his chest, his worry so intense his heart physically hurt. Having imagined the worst, he went weak with relief at the scene before him. Her clear, sharp gaze finding him was his undoing.

"Oh baby, I'm so glad you're alright," he said huskily as he strode to her bedside and embraced her gently, pulling away when her muscles stiffened.

"Do you hug and call all your employees 'baby'?" she asked, almost accusingly.

He figured she must be teasing, which released even more of his tension.

"Only the special ones," he replied softly before reaching for her again. This time her body became even more rigid if that was possible. Confused, he straightened and took a step back sending a questioning glance toward Judy, but the older woman only shrugged.

"Care to introduce us, Ms. Fairfax?" Dr. Chandler asked cheerily, apparently trying to cover the awkward silence that had descended upon the room.

"I'm sorry. Dr. Chandler, this is my boss, Mr. MacGyver. But everyone just calls him 'Mac'. None of us know his first name."

At her declaration MacGyver's blood ran cold. She didn't remember his first name. Worse, she didn't seem to remember not remembering!

"Could I speak with you in the hall, doctor?" he asked, ignoring the look on Joanna's face which was a mixture of concern, surprise...and fear.

"What's wrong with her?" Mac asked, frustrated and more than a little anxious.

The doctor hesitated.

"Look, you can get permission from her mother to tell me how she is if you need to."

The doctor sighed. "There's actually nothing to tell. Except for a bump on the head she's fine. Given a couple day's rest she'll be good as new."

"But she's _not_ fine!" Mac exclaimed, loud enough to garner quelling looks from the nursing staff. He continued in a lower tone, "She doesn't remember me!"

"She seems to know exactly who you are, Mr. MacGyver."

"It's not like that. Joanna's not my employee, she's my business partner. We're close friends.. Very close. And she most definitely knows my first name. Yet she's acting as if we're practically strangers!"

The doctor hugged the clipboard he was holding to his chest and lowered his head, mulling over this new information.

"I don't know what to tell you. She passed all our memory tests, both short and long term, with flying colors. And she does remember you to some extent." Here Dr. Chandler paused for what felt like an eternity. "I suppose, if she doesn't object, I could ask her more questions. Dig a little deeper, so to speak."

"Thank you," Mac let out the breath he'd been holding. "Can we do it now?"

The doctor smiled. "No time like the present!"

Together MacGyver and the doctor reentered Joanna's room.

"Ms. Fairfax, would you mind if I asked you some more questions about people who have come into your life within the past few years?"

"No, not at all," Jo answered the doctor, a little too warmly for Mac's peace of mind.

Over the next thirty minutes MacGyver's heart broke piece by piece as he listened to Joanna describe her relationships with Pete, Connie, Cynthia, Sam, the kids at Challengers, her co-workers at the high school, and even Penny and Jack with love and affection. Only when she spoke of him were her answers vague, emotionless, and annoyingly polite. Even Frog garnered more regard than he did.

"Well doctor, did I pass?" she asked once the inquiries ended, smiling coyly. Mac's stomach dipped. Was she flirting with her doctor?

"You did just fine," Dr. Chandler assured her. "Now it's time for us to leave so you can get some rest if you want to go home later."

As MacGyver followed the neurologist and Jo's parents out the door, he heard her gently call his name. His breath caught. Had this past half hour jogged her memory? He quickly returned to her bedside.

"I just wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier," she said softly, her gaze lowered. "I know how much you care about everyone and I appreciate your concern."

Mac swallowed around the lump in his throat but remained silent. Her words had been so formal. So professional.

"Could you do me a favor?" she asked shyly.

"Anything."

"Could you go to the bookstore and pick up the novels I ordered for the club? I want to get them up on display before Pete and the Phoenix review board arrive."

"You got it," he promised. "Now try and get some rest."

His heart heavy, he stepped out into the hallway and joined Mr. and Mrs. Fairfax who were already deep in conversation with Jo's doctor.

"What did I miss?" MacGyver asked.

Doctor Chandler turned to him. "I was just explaining that Ms. Fairfax appears to be experiencing a case of dissociative amnesia, though I've never seen it this specific before. She remembers you and experiences with you, but she cannot recall her true feelings for you. It mostly happens when the victim has experienced emotional trauma. They use their amnesia as a defense mechanism when something is too painful to deal with. However, according to her mother, you two have had a very positive, loving relationship. To be honest, I really can't explain it."

"So what do we do about it?" Mac asked, his mind spinning with this new information.

"I don't believe there's much we _can_ do," the doctor sighed. "The mind is a funny thing and there's still much we don't know about it."

"Yeah. I've heard that before," MacGyver muttered.

"There's a very strong chance all her memories will return on their own after she's recovered from the shock of the accident. The best thing is not to pressure her to remember. Let it come naturally. I want to see her in a week for another CT scan, just to make sure we didn't miss anything. If her memory of you still hasn't returned, we'll discuss further options."

XXXXX

MacGyver sank down on his couch Tuesday evening, head in his hands. He wasn't sure which was worse: Not seeing Joanna at all, or seeing her at Challengers every day, interacting normally with everyone but him. As the doctor had predicted, Jo had returned home late Saturday evening. According to her mother, she spent Sunday resting and returned to her teaching job Monday morning but chose to skip her shift at Challengers. He couldn't blame her. Recovering from a head injury, no matter how minor, was always more physically challenging than one would expect. And he ought to know.

Today, she had arrived at Challengers just after lunch to make sure everything was in order for Phoenix's visit tomorrow. He had teased her when he caught her rearranging the novels he had put out on display, but instead of a usual sassy retort, she sheepishly apologized and he quickly backpedaled to assure her that she had done a much better job than him. Later, he watched as she chatted with Cynthia as if they had known each other forever, patiently helped Suzy and Davey with their homework as always, and played a round of eight-ball with Raul and laughed heartily when he beat her. She even made a point of giving Frog some attention and slipped him treats when she thought Mac wasn't watching. It was only when MacGyver was near that she reined in her enthusiasm, allowing a mask of professionalism and indifference to fall. He knew the doctor had said not to pressure her to remember, but surely a little nudging couldn't hurt. After the grant review tomorrow, Mac would begin 'Operation Joanna'. At best, her feelings for him would return. At worst, he would simply have to get her to fall in love with him all over again.

Pete and a small entourage of Phoenix board members arrived at Challengers on Wednesday afternoon. Once introductions and greetings had been exchanged, a couple of the men sequestered themselves with Cynthia in her office to take a thorough look at the ledgers while others fanned out to inspect the recreation room and dormitory. The remaining men struck up casual conversations with some of the club members and volunteers, including Joanna. Her wide smile and hand gestures told MacGyver she was enthusiastically regaling the men with positive stories of Challengers and the community it served.

Once the evaluation was underway, Mac guided Pete to his office, helping his friend into a chair before taking a seat himself.

"So how's Joanna doing?" Pete asked, concerned etched on his face.

"The same," Mac sighed.

Pete was silent for a moment before responding. "Well, it hasn't even been a week since the accident. These things take time."

"I know, but it's just so...so…"

"Scary?"

"Yeah."

The older man began to smile. "I'll never forget that time you lost your memory and the bad guys convinced you that _I_ was the bad guy. You even held a gun on me. Yet somewhere, deep down, you knew the truth."

"And you helped me find that truth. Even as I was about to shoot you."

"I guess it's your turn to do the same for Joanna."

"I'm already on it, Pete."

"I figured," he snorted.

XXXXX

"Well, that seemed to have gone well," Cynthia stated as she, Joanna, and MacGyver gathered in her office that evening.

"When will we know if our grant gets renewed?" Jo asked, more to Cynthia than Mac.

"Pete said it'll take a couple of weeks," MacGyver replied. "He told me we have nothing to worry about."

"I've heard _that_ before," Cynthia sniffed sarcastically.

"Pete wouldn't lie to us," Joanna declared. "We need to think positive."

A soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

"Excuse me," Rosie Garcia poked her head in. "All the kids have gone home for the night. Do you mind if I leave a bit early?"

"Not at all," Cynthia replied. "In fact, that sounds like a really good idea. It's been a stressful day for all of us." She gathered her purse and headed out, MacGyver and Joanna behind her. It was now or never for Mac.

"Hey Jo, hold up a sec!"

Joanna stopped and turned, but didn't say anything.

"I'm still kinda wound up from today. How about a game or two of air hockey before going home?"

A smile tugged at her lips and a fraction of Mac's anxiety dissipated.

"We haven't played that in a while, have we?"

"Nope."

"I'm still pretty bad at it."

"I'll take my chances," he replied. "How about we have a pizza delivered?"

"Sure," she agreed. "Just make my half of it normal," she said, wrinkling her nose.

Mac's heart skipped a beat. At last, a glimpse of 'his' Joanna! "You got it," he smiled.

And so it began. Air hockey games, pizza, and even a trip to the ice rink. Just like the old days. Joanna began to visibly relax around him and laugh and talk with him. His plan was working.

They didn't see each other on Saturday due to Joanna's follow-up CT scan. When he didn't see her at Challengers on Sunday he began to worry. Surely if the scan had shown something her mother would have called. Perhaps Jo just needed to rest. She had been pushing herself at the end of the week what with teaching, Challengers, and spending time with him. Had _he_ pushed her too hard? After a late supper of yogurt and a banana he sat on the couch, staring at the box Neil had sent him sitting on the coffee table. He slowly opened it and took out his grandmother's rings, stroking the smooth gold and twisting them around the tip of his finger. Would these bands ever find the destination he had planned? Though more at ease in his presence, Joanna was nowhere near giving him her heart...or remembering that he already had it. And it was all his fault. If only he hadn't overslept that day, or not taken the time to open the mysterious package. If only he had gotten to Challengers before she left for the bookstore. He could've run that simple errand and life would have went on as usual. He read his mother's letter again, focusing on the last two words. Ice cream. How did she know he needed those words now, and would everything really be okay?

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Joanna pulled her parent's car up in front of MacGyver's townhouse late Sunday evening. After the accident, her beloved Chevy had been taken to the body shop, damaged but not beyond repair. She glanced at her watch and sighed as giant butterflies flitted in her stomach. Actually, it felt more like dinosaurs stomping around her midsection. What in the world made her think that coming to Mac's house and asking to speak alone with him was a good idea. She thought back to the days since her crash. Everyone and everything was just as it always was, except when _he_ was around. She felt a tension between them that she wasn't sure had existed before, and every time she looked in his eyes she saw a flicker of pain. Then, today, she had found a crumpled up hockey jersey buried in her dresser drawer. Something wasn't right and she knew MacGyver was the only one who could provide the answers she sought.

She knocked on his front door and waited impatiently for him to answer. Perhaps he had gone to bed early. She was just about to leave, or more accurately, run away, when she saw him approach through the glass door.

"Hey!" he greeted her, his surprise obvious.

"Hey," she echoed back, forcing a smile. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"You are never a bother. Please, come in."

Joanna slipped through the doorway as he stepped aside and led her to the couch where he sat down next to her. Close, but not too close, and she couldn't decide if she liked it or not.

"I was hoping to see you at Challengers today. How did your CT scan go?"

"It went fine. At least that's what they told me," she replied, hesitant to make eye contact.

"That's a good thing, right?"

"I guess," she shrugged, nibbling her lower lip and debating how to continue. "The thing is, I don't always feel 'fine', especially when I'm around you."

She heard his quick intake of breath and took a breath of her own. She had no choice now but to plow ahead, no matter how awkward this conversation became. She just hoped she wouldn't lose her job at Challengers over it.

"I feel like I'm missing something. That I've forgotten something. Something important. I remember working with you and spending time with you and your friends, but I don't remember how I _felt_ when we were together and I know it probably sounds really weird and I'm probably making a fool out of myself but I can't shake the feeling that we're more than just casual friends. Then today I found this."

She pulled the rumpled up jersey from her oversized purse and held it out so the name placard faced him. She didn't need to see it again. The words had been seared into her mind...and her heart. 'Mac's Girl'.

MacGyver took the jersey from her, holding it almost reverently in his hands and blew out a sigh.

"You're not making a fool out of yourself and you're right, we are more than just friends," he assured her. "In fact, last Christmas I tried to propose to you but it didn't work out exactly as planned."

"That's when Jack had his accident and you went out to L.A. to be with him."

"You remember Jack's plane crash but you don't remember me proposing?"

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?!" She motioned to the jersey he still held. "Or about you?! Why didn't you say anything?!"

Mac gingerly reached out and she allowed him to caress her cheek with the back of his firm, solid fingers.

"I wanted to, baby. I wanted to tell you so many times, but the doctor said it would be better if you discovered your feelings on your own."

"Do you love me?" she asked, feeling her face turn red at such a direct and intimate question.

"Yeah. I do," he responded softly, his eyes meeting hers with a shared sadness.

"And do I love you?"

"Yeah," he answered in a husky whisper.

"Then help me remember, Mac. Please help me," she pleaded as tears rolled down her cheeks and he moved close to envelope her in a comforting embrace that she could never in a million years imagine she could forget.

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That week, MacGyver made a point of spending as much time with Joanna as possible, and she did the same. They were practically inseparable from the time she arrived at Challengers until they left, often grabbing take-out on the way to his place where they would spend the evenings watching old Westerns, video-taped hockey games, or simply talking until the moon was high in the sky. It became harder and harder for Mac to watch her leave, and she must have felt the same as her steps became slower, their goodbyes longer. Her humor and friendship soon shone through and MacGyver could tell she was learning to trust him once again. But she wasn't progressing as quickly as he would have liked. She still found silence between them uncomfortable and shied away whenever he leaned in to kiss her, even if he only meant to give her a peck on the cheek or forehead. However, he was grateful for each step, no matter how small, and would do whatever it took and wait however long he needed to in order for her to rediscover her love for him.

Friday was a busy day at Challengers right from the start as the schools were closed for a teacher in-service day and all the kids had off, many with nowhere else to go. Thankfully the volunteers stepped up to make sure the club was fully staffed, but that left MacGyver with little to do. Joanna had told him she would probably spend most of the day at school so he didn't even have her presence to look forward to. He must have looked as pitiful as he felt because at noon Cynthia came to him with a white paper bag from the corner deli.

"A turkey club for her and a bunch of veggies on bread for you," she said, holding out her offering.

"But she said she probably wouldn't be in today."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Just because she doesn't come _here_ doesn't mean you can't go _there_. Even teachers have to eat, you know!"

It suddenly occurred to Mac that he had yet to set foot in Joanna's classroom though school had been in session for about a month. If what she told him the night before was correct, the mandatory morning meetings would be finished by now and she'd be catching up on work. Not wanting to go the entire day without seeing her and risk losing any of the progress they had made, he quickly headed over toward the high school.

With the principal's assistance, he soon found Jo's room and leaned lazily against the door jamb. She was standing on the top step of a short ladder, her back to him, busily removing 'Welcome Back to School' decorations from her bulletin board and replacing them with colorful, laminated posters citing proper grammar and punctuation rules. His thoughts tumbled back to the first time he saw her, in very much the same position. Only today she wore sneakers instead of heels.

"Lookin' good," he observed cheerfully. But he must have startled her because she turned around quickly and began to sway. Taking two long steps he was at her side, his hands planted firmly on her hips until she regained her balance.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," she smiled down at him.

"You remember?" he asked cautiously.

"Of course I do!" she replied as, with his assistance, she stepped down onto the floor.

Instead of moving away from him as he expected, she stayed right where she was, so close she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

"It's not every day a damsel in distress gets rescued by a tall, handsome hero. Lucky for me it's happened twice...so far."

Her smile shifted into a sly grin as she reached up to slowly rake her fingers through his hair before gently urging his head down so his lips met hers in an achingly tender caress. MacGyver's heart stilled and his thoughts fled as he instinctively pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, mindful to keep it soft and undemanding, until she broke the connection.

'Mmmm, I've missed that," she mused, her arms still around his neck, her fingers teasing the hair at his nape.

"Jo?" he asked, his heart now beating triple-time.

"It's me, Mac. I remember everything. I remember us."

"But...how?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's all the time we've been spending together. I just woke up this morning and suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle fit, ya know? I was trying to finish up here and get to Challengers so I could tell you."

"I think I like this way better," he smiled. "But I still don't get why you forgot your feelings for me after the accident? The doctor said it can happen to people who want to repress certain memories."

Joanna shrugged. "Maybe my subconscious is still afraid of my feelings for you. I've never felt like this about anyone before and maybe a part of me is still afraid it may not last."

"Hey! I thought _I_ was the one with commitment issues," Mac teased, earning him a watery smile before becoming sober.

"Aw baby, what can I do to make sure you know I'll always love you?"

"Promise to hang on to me and never let me go no matter what?"

"Count on it," he vowed. "And if I ever get knocked loopy, you do the same, okay?"

"You gotta mean 'when', not 'if'," Jo snickered, the warmth of her laugh lighting a fire deep within him.

Unable to recall a time when he had ever felt happier, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground before kissing her again, this time more completely. When they finally separated, each of them breathless, she looked up at him with a light in her eyes that hadn't been there since her accident. Filled with sweet love and desire, he couldn't tear his gaze from her. She was back. His Joanna had come back to him...to stay.


	28. Past, Present, Future?

**Past, Present, Future? (Part 1)**

"This was a dumb idea," MacGyver muttered to himself Friday evening as he struggled for the third time to tie a perfect Windsor knot. Who knew that a simple piece of silk could be so troublesome. He actually wished Sam was there to assist him for once. He undid his most recent attempt, took a deep breath and looked at the clock. Joanna would be arriving shortly and he couldn't mess this up. His hands shook as he attempted the task once more. Hands that had the innate ability to stay amazingly steady as he diffused hundreds of bombs over the years. Although, the thought of getting blown up was nothing compared to the question he was planning to ask tonight. Four little words that would change the course of his life one way or another. Slipping on his suit jacket he took one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs. The delicious aroma of the dinner he had in the oven wafted through the air and he smiled, even though his stomach churned. He straightened the floral centerpiece on the small kitchen table before lighting two taper candles on either side. He then dimmed the living room lights and turned on some soft, slow music to set the mood. A knock on the front door caused his heart to leap into his throat. He swallowed hard. This was it.

Joanna was standing in the doorway looking more beautiful than ever in the yellow and ivory lace dress she had worn several weeks earlier to a fundraising event.

"I'm sorry I'm a little late. I hope we don't miss our reservation," she said before MacGyver had a chance to compliment her or even invite her inside.

"It's not a problem," he assured her, stepping aside. "Welcome to Chez Mac, madam. Your table awaits."

He watched with satisfaction as her wide brown eyes landed on the table set to rival that of the most upscale restaurant in town. As she slowly stepped across the threshold, he sensed the moment she heard the soft music and felt the ambiance of the room wash over her.

"Oh Mac!" she quietly exclaimed as she turned towards him. "When you invited me to a fancy dinner I never expected _this_! And you even put on a tie!"

She reached up to straighten the knot in a way Sam never could and he automatically relaxed at her touch.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, gazing lovingly down at her. "I wanted it to just be you and me tonight."

"I like the way you think," she replied, smiling up at him.

Once Joanna was seated and dinner was served, the pair fell into easy conversation. MacGyver couldn't help but notice Jo rubbing the bare spot on her finger where she normally wore her sapphire ring. He reached out and took her hand in his, caressing the empty space with his thumb.

"You still miss it, don't you?"

"Yeah," she nodded sheepishly. "It's like when you get a tooth pulled and your tongue keeps going to where it used to be. Thankfully the jeweler said they should have the stone replaced by the end of next week."

Mac remembered earlier that week when Joanna had arrived at Challengers looking sullen. She had just discovered that one of the small diamonds flanking the larger dark blue stone was missing and she had to send off her precious ring for repair. MacGyver didn't much believe in coincidence, but he knew opportunity when he saw it and he planned to take advantage of it tonight.

After dessert, the couple moved to the living room couch. Ellen MacGyver's treasure chest was proudly displayed on the coffee table. Mac took it in his hands before placing it on Joanna's lap.

"This was my mom's" he explained when she looked at him questioningly. "She kept mementos from when I was a kid in there. Take a look."

Jo hesitated. "But Mac, it's so personal."

"That's kinda the point. Now go ahead and open it."

Joanna slowly lifted the lid and immediately smiled when she saw the homemade necklace and pondered the many cards he had created. His hands began to sweat as if he were a child all over again when she spent a bit too much time perusing his grade school report cards.

"I don't believe it!" she cried.

"What?" Mac asked defensively.

"You flunked science!"

"No way! Let me see that!" he insisted, reaching for the aged piece of paper. "Oh yeah, now I remember. That was the semester I got my first chemistry set. I spent all my time playing with that instead of doing my homework," he explained with a crooked grin.

"The fact that your mom kept all this stuff tells me she loved you very much. She must have been a very special lady. I wish I could've met her."

"Yeah, me too," he responded, his voice husky with sudden emotion. "There was something else in that box, but before you see it I need to say a few things."

The concern that marred her brow wrenched at his heart so he quickly decided to ditch the fancy speech he had prepared and improvise instead.

"I love you, Jo. You know that, right?"

She nodded, giving him the courage to continue.

"I tried to hide behind my fear of commitment, but I was only fooling myself. From the first time I saw you I knew there would never be anyone else. Not for me. It's always been you." Here he stopped and took a breath. "All my life I've been so afraid of losing people I love, and I still am. But you've made me see how much I've truly lost by running away. I'm done running, Jo. I'm here. I'm yours if you'll have me. Will you marry me?"

MacGyver held his breath as Joanna silently studied him, an unidentifiable look in her eyes. He knew she loved him back, but she was also insecure in that love. Did he, in an attempt to ease her fears, only make things worse? He had thought this was what she ultimately wanted and, after the last few weeks, it seemed that the time was right. She had asked him to hang on to her and never let her go. Had he misinterpreted her meaning? He ran his finger around the inside collar of his dress shirt which had suddenly become too tight. Why wasn't she answering him? Yeah, this had definitely been a dumb idea. Now he remembered why he never proposed to anyone. Leaving was a lot easier than getting rejected.

"Yes, I'll marry you," Jo replied simply. Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her in a tight embrace. He released the breath he had been holding and lost himself in her sweet warmth as their hearts beat in rhythm as one.

When they finally pulled apart, he reached into his pocket and, taking her hand in his, slipped the now-familiar ring on her finger.

"Do you like it?" he asked in little more than a whisper as she stared at the small, twinkling stone on the simple band of gold.

"It's perfect. Absolutely perfect," she assured him, squeezing his hand.

"It was my grandmother's." He lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on the ring before cupping her face in his hands and finding her soft, willing lips.

Lost in the magic of the kiss that promised forever, MacGyver vaguely heard the strains of an old-fashioned love song he recognized as one of his mother's favorites. Reluctantly, he broke contact and pushed himself off the couch before turning back, his arm extended towards Joanna.

"Dance with me?"

Her flushed face, already filled with love and awe, looked up at him.

"I thought you didn't care to dance?"

He smiled gently. "I do now."

Joanna eagerly accepted his invitation and together they swayed to the gentle cadence of the music, his lips once again finding hers. Oblivious to the outside world, they startled apart at the shrill ring of the telephone.

"Let the machine get it," Jo instructed, pulling him close so their foreheads touched.

"MacGyver, it's me. If you're there pick up!"

Mac groaned. "Go away, Pete."

"It could be something important," Joanna mumbled, taking a step back.

"You're timing stinks!" Mac growled into the receiver.

"Now you know how _I_ feel when _you_ call in the middle of the night," Pete chuckled wryly.

Mac glanced at Joanna who now sat on the couch, hugging a throw pillow. "I highly doubt that, Pete. What's up?"

"It's about the grant for Challengers. You'll be getting a call tomorrow morning, but I wanted to give you a heads up."

"What about the grant?" he asked. His words caught Jo's attention and she now came to stand beside him, an anxious look in her eyes.

"The Western Division of Phoenix siphoned some of our funds to go toward Challengers in Los Angeles. You're still getting the grant, it's just not as much as you were promised."

"What?! They can't do that!"

"They can and they did," Pete sighed. "I'll keep on it and see if we can work something out. In the meantime, when you get that phone call, don't shoot the messenger. Got it?"

"Got it," MacGyver confirmed glumly before hanging up.

"Mac, what's wrong?" Jo asked, not even trying to disguise her worry.

He sank down on a kitchen stool, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down onto his lap before relaying the short conversation.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, her hands resting on his.

"I don't know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joanna stifled a yawn early the following morning as she, Cynthia, and MacGyver gathered in his office to await the inevitable phone call Pete had warned them about. After leaving Mac the night before, she had gone home to an overjoyed mother and happily content father who, she had learned, had given MacGyver their permission to propose to her when he had asked for their blessing days earlier. Her heart warmed at Mac's thoughtfulness. She hurried off to bed with as little fanfare as possible only to spend some of the night reveling in the memory of MacGyver's kisses, some of it fretting about the fate of Challengers, and some of it terrified at the turn her life had suddenly taken. Though she had always assumed she would get married, she thought she had made peace with the fact that it wasn't to be several years ago. Now she wore MacGyver's engagement ring and tussled with the implications it came with. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved him and he loved her, but her pragmatic side struggled to accept the changes this shift in their relationship would bring. Not to mention the fact that she had answered him so quickly. For goodness sake, it took her longer to decide which shoes to wear in the morning than it did for her to make this life-altering decision! She didn't even ask for time to think about it. She just blurted out 'yes'! Yet somehow, she knew it was right. When the morning sunlight finally greeted her, she crawled out of bed and headed into work unlike most women who would gleefully be announcing the events of the previous evening to their family and friends. Upon arriving at the club, Cynthia had smiled at her warmly, admired her modest engagement ring, and gently embraced her before all thoughts turned to the business at hand.

The call came in shortly thereafter and MacGyver put it on speakerphone. A male voice in a clipped tone informed them that the grant they would be receiving would be several thousand dollars less than what they had planned and budgeted for. He offered a generic apology before disconnecting. Joanna and Cynthia watched as Mac clicked off the call, pushed away from his desk and silently strode out of his office, through the recreation area and out into the parking lot.

When Jo couldn't stand his absence any longer, she ventured outside to find MacGyver sitting on his new Harley, lovingly polishing the already shiny chrome with a soft rag. Her stomach dipped. She had caught him doing the same thing to his Nomad six months earlier when he intended to sell it in order to pay the initial lease on Challengers before the Phoenix Foundation stepped in. Wordlessly, she mounted the bike behind him, slipped her arms around his waist, and rested her chin on his sun-warmed shoulder.

"You don't have to do it, you know," she said softly into her ear.

He turned his head so her lips were practically touching his cheek.

"No man needs three vehicles. Besides, it technically belongs to Challengers anyway."

"I've seen the books. Cynthia's done a good job. We're financially solvent for a couple more months. We can use that time to find another solution."

"Like what?" he protested listlessly.

"Maybe Pete will be able to work something out, or we could contact some of the donors we met at the fundraising gala. We'll find a way."

MacGyver lithely swung one long leg over the handlebars before sliding off the leather seat. He then took Joanna's soft hand in his and helped her dismount as well, placing his hands on her hips to keep her near.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "You should be picking out china patterns and Jack should be planning my bachelor party. We shouldn't be worrying about losing Challengers...again."

"I don't care for china much anyway," Joanna shrugged, her arms now looped casually around his neck. "And I highly doubt you would let Jack plan a party, particularly one you would enjoy. Challengers needs to be our priority right now and we _will_ figure something out. Together."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sunday evening MacGyver zipped up his garment bag and laid it carefully across his bed so the suit inside wouldn't get wrinkled as Joanna watched from a corner of the upstairs room.

"I know the timing stinks, but Pete thinks we can make some progress by going straight to the Phoenix board in Los Angeles." Mac planned to pick up his friend on the way to O'Hare and catch the red-eye to the coast so they could meet with the board first thing in the morning.

"I hope he's right," Jo replied in an understanding tone. "And while you two are doing that, I'll make some calls to potential local donors." Here she paused and shifted the conversation. "Have you told them about us?"

Mac looked up and caught her tentative gaze. "Yeah," he smiled affectionately. "Pete and Connie send their congratulations and love and Sam is thrilled that he's finally going to have an official step-mother."

The tension drained from Joanna's face and she laughed softly. "Sometimes I swear that son of yours is twenty-something going on ten!"

"Can't argue with you there," MacGyver agreed lightheartedly.

"You'll keep me posted on how things go in L.A.?" Jo's serious tone returned.

"Count on it!"

XXXXX

"'We'll take your request under consideration'?" Mac huffed as he guided Pete through the myriad corridors of the Los Angeles Phoenix Foundation offices. "We travel two thousand miles and plead for an hour and that's the best they can do?!"

"Calm down, MacGyver," Pete urged. "These things take time. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that," he said, blowing out a sigh as he reached up to loosen his tie. "I'm just frustrated."

"Hey! Why don't we grab some lunch at that Indian restaurant you used to like so much before we catch our return flight," Pete suggested.

"Have your taste buds recovered from the last time?" Mac grinned.

"MacGyver! Pete!" a male voice called from behind, interrupting their conversation.

Mac turned around and instantly recognized the man.

"Craig Bannister! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing! Last I heard you had moved to some farm town in the Midwest to teach delinquent youth!"

"That's not exactly accurate," MacGyver protested but decided it wasn't worth arguing about. "But what about you? Did Phoenix finally manage to snag you away from the DXS?"

"Something like that. I've been here about a year now," Craig admitted with a sly grin. "You're looking at the Director of Foreign Field Operations."

"Impressive title," Mac acknowledged. "Pete and I were just going to get some lunch. Why don't you join us and we can catch up?"

Before Bannister could answer, his pager went off. "I have to take this," he declared, after checking the number. "You remember what it's like Pete, right?"

Pete smiled in the direction of Craig's voice. "Sure do. And I can't say I miss it!"

MacGyver and Pete stood off to the side as Bannister dialed the nearest telephone and was soon engaged in an animated conversation. Minutes later, he hung up the phone and approached his two friends, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Problem?" Mac asked.

"Yeah. You could say that," he sighed.

"What's up?"

"You know I can't tell you that MacGyver. It's classified."

"Ah." Mac nodded once to show he understood.

"Unless...Mac, would you be interested in doing a freelance assignment for Phoenix?"

"Depends. What do I need to do?"

"One of my operatives is in Berlin, Germany. She infiltrated a small communist cell that refuses to believe the wall is down. She confiscated a computer disc chronicling their activity and is scheduled to return to the United States."

"Go on," Mac prompted.

"She called for a secure pick-up because she thought she was being followed. I had an agent scheduled to leave later this afternoon but he just got called away on a family emergency and I don't have time to arrange for anyone else. What do ya say? Everything is set. You won't be in Germany long enough to shave and I'll see that you get a nice, healthy bonus in return."

"Pete?" MacGyver turned to his long-time friend and confidant looking for guidance.

"It's up to you."

Mac turned back to Bannister. "Who's your operative?"

"Nicole Carpenter."

MacGyver's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Nikki?!"

XXXXX

"I just don't get it," Mac declared thirty minutes later as he, Pete and Craig munched on Chinese take-out in Bannister's office. "Nikki is one of the most self-sufficient, independent, pig-headed agents Phoenix has! It's not like her to panic at shadows and call for backup."

"She's also one of the most professional, by-the-book agents Phoenix has and she's doing what she's been trained to do," Pete reminded him.

Mac struggled to refrain from rolling his eyes at the not-so-subtle reminder of the differences between the way he and Nikki operated. In spite of that, Nikki was a good agent and had been an even better friend. He couldn't refuse to help.

"Okay, fine. I'll do it. What's the plan?"

"Your flight is scheduled to leave at 4:00 pm from LAX. You should arrive in Berlin about 5:00 am California time. Nikki will be waiting for you in room 306 of the Intercontinental Hotel."

"Why not the U.S. Embassy?"

"We're not certain her cover has been blown so she doesn't want to tip anyone off. From there, you're both scheduled on the next flight to the United States and should arrive here tomorrow evening. Piece of cake, right?"

"Sounds good," MacGyver acknowledged.

"In the meantime, feel free to hang out here while I arrange for a charter flight to take Pete back to Chicago."

Bannister stood up from his seat behind the desk and stepped out of the office, closing the door behind him.

"Are you sure about this, MacGyver?" Pete asked when the two men were alone.

"Pete, it's Nikki," he replied, as if that was enough explanation.

"What about Joanna?"

"What about her?"

Pete huffed and rolled his sightless eyes. "You two are a committed couple now. You need to let her know what's going on!"

"I was planning on calling and telling her something's come up and I'll be away longer than expected."

Pete slowly and silently shook his head in dismay.

"What?! You know this assignment is classified!"

"MacGyver, listen to me. I ruined my first marriage to Connie because I never opened up to her. I can't let you do the same to Joanna. There _are_ things you can tell her without compromising the mission."

"You're right," Mac sighed, pushing to his feet and reaching for the telephone on Craig's desk. He looked at his watch and considered the time zones, she should be at Challengers by now.

"Good afternoon, this is Challengers Club, how may I help you?"

"Hi Cynthia, it's Mac."

"I wasn't expecting you to have news so soon!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"I don't. Sorry to disappoint you. Is Joanna available?"

A few seconds later Jo's sweet voice came over the line.

"There's something I need to tell you," MacGyver began after they exchanged greetings. "An old friend of mine here at Phoenix asked me to go on a mission. There was a last minute emergency."

Silence greeted him. He cleared his throat before continuing, hoping Jo would understand.

"I can't give you any details, but I need to do a secure pick-up. I should be home by tomorrow night."

"Is it safe?" she asked.

"It should be."

"Is someone in trouble?"

"Not if I do my job right."

"Then go."

"You're okay with this?"

"Not really," Jo responded truthfully, "But I love you and everything about you and I know part of that means running to the rescue when you need to. Just promise to be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

A very unladylike snort came through the receiver and Mac chuckled. "So, how are things going on your end?"

"I called a couple possible donors this morning during my break but had to leave messages. I'm gonna call more now. And Cynthia and I started brainstorming ideas for fundraisers like a bake sale or car wash. They wouldn't bring in a whole lot of money but it's better than nothing."

"Well, if I'm successful with this assignment Phoenix will give me a bonus and I'll make sure it's something Challengers can benefit from."

 _ **To be continued…**_


	29. Past, Present, Future? (Part 2)

**Past, Present, Future? (part 2)**

MacGyver jolted awake when the flight attendant's voice came over the intercom asking passengers to fasten their seatbelts for the plane's landing. He scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes and ran his fingers through his unruly hair before glancing down at the wrinkled suit he still wore from this morning. Er, make that yesterday. After securing his seatbelt he lifted up the window shade and squinted into the sunny, cloudless sky. He glanced at his watch and did the math. Back in L.A. it was early morning, but here it was almost mid-afternoon. He stretched out his legs and back as much as he could without disturbing his fellow travelers and felt vastly relieved once the plane had taxied to a stop outside the terminal and they were given permission to abandon their seats and exit the aircraft.

Without any luggage, MacGyver quickly wound his way through the crowded airport and hailed a cab to take him to the hotel where he would collect Nikki. He wasn't looking forward to another eleven hour flight so soon, but he was already looking forward to returning home, which was odd given his love of travel. But this was a job, not a vacation, and their safe passage wasn't guaranteed until they were back on American soil. Upon arriving at his destination, he asked the cabbie to wait. Bannister should have contacted Nikki with Mac's arrival time so she should be packed and waiting for him. He figured they'd be back on their way to the airport in ten minutes at the most.

MacGyver easily navigated the well-appointed lobby, taking the elevator to the third floor where room 306 was just a few doors down. He knocked lightly.

"Who is it?"

"Room service!" he replied with a grin.

"I didn't order anything," the female voice snapped.

MacGyver shook his head. He should have known Nikki wouldn't appreciate his attempt at humor, especially while technically working. He knocked again.

"Nikki, it's Mac! Bannister sent me."

A few seconds later the door cracked open and Nikki's pale, haggard face appeared, her eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, MacGyver. You shouldn't have come," she whispered just before the door was jerked from her hands and opened further revealing a tall, dark-haired man in a suit.

"I have a gun with a silencer pointed at your friend's back," the man sneered. "Step slowly into the room and don't try to be a hero."

Mac complied and soon he and Nikki were seated side-by-side in straight backed chairs, their arms and legs bound. The bedding lay in heaps on the floor and dresser drawers and their contents were scattered about.

"What happened?" MacGyver asked in a whisper as soon as their captor disappeared into the adjoining room.

"I told Phoenix I thought someone was following me and obviously I was right!" Nikki spat, struggling to free herself. True to form, she was ready to fight instead of cower.

"Do you still have the disc?"

"Of course I do! That's the only reason I'm still alive!"

"Who's your friend?" Mac needed to gain as much information as he could in what little time they had alone.

"His name is Hans. He's a henchman for Gunter Kraus, the leader of the Communist cell I infiltrated. He broke into my room an hour ago."

"Nice that he decided to wait for me," MacGyver replied sarcastically.

"Don't flatter yourself. Someone obviously knew I called for backup and didn't want to leave any loose ends."

"So now what?" Mac asked, testing the strength of the rope that bound his hands.

"Isn't that supposed to be _my_ line?!

Hans picked that precise moment to reenter the room.

"Just do whatever he says," MacGyver whispered to Nikki which earned him a slit-eyed sideways glance letting him know she wasn't thrilled with the idea but would play along.

"The boss wants me to take you someplace nice and private," Hans said in well-practiced English. "I am going to untie you now. There is a car waiting for us out front. I will have a gun pointed at you. If you try and escape I will shoot you both."

MacGyver and Nikki acquiesced to the henchman's directives and before long were standing outside on the sidewalk, a black luxury car parked in the space previously occupied by Mac's taxi. They reluctantly slid into the backseat and watched as the city sites disappeared into a rural landscape. Soon the driver carefully maneuvered the car around a circular drive in front of a large mansion. Hans quickly leapt from the passenger seat, opened the door for Mac and Nikki and escorted them into the large house where they were met by a short, grey-haired man.

"Ah, _Fraulein_ Carpenter! How nice to see you in person! And _Herr_ MacGyver, a pleasure to finally meet the man behind the reputation!" Gunter Kraus greeted them with a heavy German accent.

Nikki shot Mac a questioning look and he replied with a shrug.

"Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable," Kraus invited, encouraging the pair to step into a plush sitting room with Hans on their heels. "Do not look so surprised that I know your true identities. A man like me must be very careful about who he does business with."

"Business?!" Nikki exclaimed. "Is that what you call trying to launch a Communist revolt against the present government?!"

Kraus smiled at MacGyver. "She is a feisty one, is she not?"

MacGyver, not wanting to be rude, nodded in response and immediately felt himself pinned by Nikki's steely gaze.

"Now, _Miss_ Carpenter, please hand over the disc you stole from me and you and Mr. MacGyver will be free to go."

"I don't have it," Nikki declared defiantly, raising her chin.

"What?!" Mac and Kraus cried in unison.

"You don't think I would carry such a valuable piece of information with me like a mere souvenir, do you?"

"Then you will tell me where to find it!" Kraus demanded, his good humor quickly dissolving.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Nikki replied calmly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Then it is up to Mr. MacGyver to inform me of its whereabouts."

"He doesn't know where it is," Nikki quickly spoke up. "And even if he did, we do not negotiate with Communists!"

"I am not interested in negotiating!" Kraus's voice boomed. "Give me the disc or you will die!"

"C'mon Kraus, you know you're not gonna kill us until you get the disc," Mac reasoned.

"Then give it to me!"

Gunter Kraus sighed heavily when both Americans remained silent. "Lock them in the cellar, Hans!" he ordered. "Perhaps some time commiserating with the other vermin will change their minds."

Hans placed a meaty hand on MacGyver's upper arm and the other he wrapped around Nikki's wrist, pulling them both from their seats. Taking out his gun, he once again aimed it at their backs and directed them through the large house, their footsteps echoing on the marble flooring until they came to a heavy wooden door leading to a wine cellar. At his command, Mac opened the door and he and Nikki descended the stairs into solid darkness.

XXXXX

Nikki stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking her eyes in hopes of adjusting to the blackness they found themselves in while MacGyver ran the palm of his hand over the roughhewn wooden wall seeking some kind of light switch. Instead, he found an old fashioned kerosene lantern.

"Guess this will have to do," he told Nikki as he held it up in front of her face for her to see.

"Is there any oil in it?" she asked skeptically.

"We'll find out soon enough," Mac replied as he lifted the protective glass shade, handed it carefully off to Nikki, and touched a strike anywhere match to the fuse. Within seconds, the cloth ignited.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nikki replaced the shade before MacGyver raised the lantern to shed some dim light on their surroundings. Unfortunately, what they saw wasn't very encouraging. A long, narrow hallway lined with shelves of old wine bottles stretched out before them. For how far they could not tell.

"Terrific!" Nikki exclaimed. "Now what do we do?"

"How about you tell me where the disc really is?" he rounded on her.

Nikki sighed and stared at the dirt floor beneath their feet. "It's still in my hotel room."

"What?! Nikki, you know that's the first place they'll look!"

"Hans searched for it for an hour and couldn't find it," she replied triumphantly.

"You don't really believe they'll give up that easily, do you?!"

"No. That's why I hid it where no man would ever think to look."

"And where would _that_ be?" Mac asked, rapidly losing patience.

"I taped it underneath the lid of the toilet tank," Nikki answered smugly.

"That's not exactly by-the-book evidence handling procedure," MacGyver pointed out.

"Well what would you have done?!" she retorted.

Unable to summon a logical comeback, Mac silently wondered if he was, indeed, losing his edge in the field.

"You realize this means we have to get back to the hotel and retrieve the disc," he said flatly, knowing Nikki would recognize the dangerous repercussions of her actions.

"Of course I know that!" she snapped. "But first we have to get outta here. Any bright ideas, MacGyver?"

"Not yet," he muttered. "How old would you say this place is?"

"At least a century if not more," she replied, absently taking a bottle of wine from a nearby shelf, grimacing when she blew off the first of many layers of dust.

"Old mansions like this usually had tunnels or secret passages in case of enemy attack," Mac explained, once again raising the lantern to survey their surroundings. "I wouldn't be surprised if there's an escape route behind one of these shelving units. You take that side and I'll take this one and we'll work our way down."

Surprisingly, Nikki silently obeyed and began pushing and pulling on the rickety wooden shelves, rattling wine bottles as she went. Across the narrow aisle from her MacGyver did the same. They had progressed a few yards when Nikki let out a squeal.

"Did you find something?" Mac asked.

"No. More like something found me. It just ran across my foot!"

"Don't worry," MacGyver said, turning back to his task. "It was probably just a rat."

" _Just_ a rat?!"

"He's probably more afraid of you than you are of him," Mac reasoned with a shrug as Nikki replied with an exasperated huff.

They continued to work in silence for several minutes until MacGyver began to notice his light grow dim. He set the lantern on a shelf to examine it.

"What's wrong?" Nikki asked, peering over his shoulder.

"We're running out of wick. And we don't have much kerosene left either."

"But you have a plan, right?"

The sound of optimism in Nikki's voice made him grin. "Yeah, I have a plan."

MacGyver reached up and undid his tie. Finally, this thing would be good for something other than impressing people. He pulled his Swiss Army knife from his jacket pocket and handed it to Nikki along with his tie.

"Here, cut it into smaller strips," he told her.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked as she set to work.

"Get us some fuel."

Mac grabbed several bottles of wine, dusting them off and looking for the oldest vintage dates. Those would contain the most alcohol. When Nikki was done shredding his tie, he grabbed his knife, opened it to the corkscrew tool, and began opening the bottles. He gingerly sniffed the fumes from the first one. Wow! If that didn't ignite, nothing would! Spreading out is homemade wick on the shelf, he thoroughly doused it with the wine. Then, while they still had some light, he filled the font of the lamp with the remaining alcohol.

"MacGyver! That's marvelous!" Nikki exclaimed.

"We're not done yet. Hold on, things are gonna get dark."

With that said, he extinguished the flame. From here on in, his hands would need to be his eyes as well. Working purely by feel, he eased off the glass chimney and removed what was left of the original wick. He then reached out for his tie, shoving it into the font before taking a frayed end and threading it through the wick assembly. He held the flame of his last strike anywhere match to the makeshift wick and let out a slow breath when the material caught fire. The flame flickered and danced but steadily grew.

"You did it!" Nikki praised as he fit the chimney back in place with a small smile of satisfaction.

"All right! Now let's find a way outta this place!"

Minutes began to feel like hours as MacGyver's arm grew heavy and tired from tugging on the solidly built shelves. Nikki admirably kept pace with him, but her intermittent sighs told him she was growing weary both physically and emotionally. He was beginning to think his idea had been off base and it was time to reevaluate when the shelving unit he was pulling on gave way just a bit to spark some hope in the pit of his stomach.

"Over here!" he called softly to Nikki. "Help me pull this open."

Slowly, the heavy section of wall heaved toward them. Adrenaline now flowing, they soon had the shelving pulled far enough away to reveal a rickety wooden stairway heading upward. MacGyver glanced at Nikki.

"Ladies first?"

"No way!"

Grumbling that this must be his penance for burning his tie, Mac gingerly put one foot on the bottom step and pressed down. When it didn't splinter under his weight, he tried the next one. So far, so good. He felt Nikki's presence behind him as they ascended the stairs, stopping when what appeared to be a trap door blocked their exit. MacGyver sighed inwardly, hoping that it wasn't locked from the other side or worse, had something heavy sitting over it to keep it hidden. He bent over, angling his body so he could put the weight of his shoulder and back into the door. After a couple shoves on the swollen wood, it freely swung upward allowing rays of light to pour onto his face. Cautiously he poked his head out of the opening. The staircase had led them to a rarely used room if the protective coverings draping the furniture were any indication. He climbed out the rest of the way, reaching back to help Nikki.

"Now what?" she asked.

"I don't suppose you noticed if there were any outdoor guards besides the ones at the front door?"

Nikki shook her head. "But I did see what could be dog kennels on the side of the garage."

"I saw that, too. C'mon." Mac reached for her hand and together they quietly snuck out of the room, stopping only long enough to get their bearings before MacGyver guided them toward the back of the house and the kitchen. He efficiently began searching through the myriad cupboards and walk-in pantry from which he emerged holding a box of Milk Bones triumphantly.

"Our alarm silencer," he said in response to Nikki's questioning gaze.

They crept through the back door and outside only to find a huge expanse of well-manicured grass and an unobstructed view.

"Any suggestions?" Nikki asked.

"We'll have to make a run for it."

"We'll never make it! This place is huge and we have no idea where we even are!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Mac bit back.

"Well...no," Nikki admitted after some hesitation.

"Let's head toward the garage," MacGyver suggested. "We might find something useful in there."

Nikki looked toward the large, ornate outbuilding that was more opulent than any house she had ever seen.

"Follow me and stay low," Mac ordered. Together, they crouched and ran as fast as they could toward the building. The antique side door was locked, but MacGyver easily jimmied it with his knife.

Once inside, MacGyver found a light switch and flicked it on. Nikki gasped. Before them, parked side-by-side were five of the most cherished foreign classic cars that existed.

"Looks like ole Gunter may have himself a side job," Mac observed facetiously before his gaze landed on a large number of wooden crates stacked from floor to ceiling against the opposite wall. Without a thought he headed in that direction.

"Hey, what are you doing? I thought we were gonna get outta here?" Nikki called.

Ignoring his former fellow agent, MacGyver reached the crates and, finding a rusted crow bar, pried the nearest one open. There, packed in straw, were brand new American military rifles of various sizes and capabilities.

"Looks like we just found out how Kraus plans to take out the new government," he mumbled.

"I don't believe it," Nikki whispered. "We've got to get back to the hotel and get that disc! It has all the information we need to shut Kraus down permanently!"

Suddenly, in the distance, they heard the clamor of barking guard dogs and they were growing louder.

"We must have triggered an alarm when we broke in," Mac stated, running his hand through his hair.

"What do we do now?" Nikki asked.

MacGyver slowly studied the contents of the garage.

"Surely you're not planning on hot-wiring one of those cars!"

"No. I'm planning on hot-wiring that." Mac pointed to a small motor scooter parked in a corner. In moments, he had the motor purring. He handed the box of Milk Bones to Nikki before she climbed on the seat behind him. Finding the remote control for the large, overhead garage door opener he gave it a punch and waited impatiently until they had enough clearance to escape the building. The scooter puttered down the long gravel path that led to the main driveway, but two angry Dobermans were faster.

"Nikki!" he called, "Distract our guests!"

He glanced over his shoulder to see his passenger tossing dog treats, leaving a trail behind them. The canines continued to pursue until first one and then the other allowed instinct to take over their training and soon both were laying on the ground, happily munching away on the treats. Unfortunately, their human counterparts were now getting in the game. High speed sniper bullets whizzed over their heads and angry shouts of the shooters could be heard. Deciding his original route was too dangerous, MacGyver steered the scooter off the path and headed across a wide expanse of grass with only a few trees and scraggly bushes for cover, but it was better than the alternative of the long, open driveway which would most likely lead them back into the hands of their captors...or get them killed.

"Hold on!" he told Nikki as the tiny vehicle bucked and bobbed over the rough terrain, significantly slowing their progress, but they had managed to put a safe distance between them and their pursuers. Nevertheless, both breathed a heavy sigh of relief upon reaching the smooth, paved road that headed back into the city.

Arriving back at the hotel, their mode of transportation garnered a number of stares, but MacGyver was too focused on retrieving the computer disc to notice. Grabbing Nikki by her wrist, he hurried her through the lobby, onto the elevator, and into her room which remained eerily empty. It appeared no one had returned...yet. Mac immediately headed for the bathroom and quickly removed the lid from the toilet tank, turning it over and resting it on the marble vanity. It was only then that he saw the disc in a waterproof plastic baggie held in place by rows of silver gray tape.

"Duct tape?" He looked up at Nikki with an amused smile.

"What can I say? You were starting to rub off on me before you left."

"If I had known that I might have stuck around," he smirked.

Ignoring him, Nikki reached over and snatched the disc from its hiding spot.

"Okay, we got it. Now let's head to the airport," she instructed.

Back outside the hotel, MacGyver hailed a taxi and they were soon on their way. The autumn sun was already sinking toward the horizon, casting shadows on the street. The promise of darkness would keep them from being seen by their enemies, but it would also blind them to anyone who might be following them. They both breathed an immense sigh of relief once they reached the airport, bought their tickets, and were safely seated on a plane headed to Los Angeles with a layover in Chicago. Just before takeoff, MacGyver covertly studied their fellow passengers to assure that they were, indeed, in the clear. Finding no one suspicious, he slightly reclined his seat and allowed himself to relax...a little.

Hours later MacGyver once again found himself winding his way through the ever-busy O'Hare terminal, only now with Nikki safe at his side. As the crowd parted before them he saw Craig Bannister waving at them from where he stood on the concourse.

"I called him from the airport in Germany," Nikki explained, answering MacGyver's unasked question before she slipped away from Mac and into Craig's arms.

"Let me guess," MacGyver said, grinning widely at Bannister. " _She's_ the reason you joined the Foundation."

"What can I say, Mac? You caught me red-handed!"

"Isn't it wonderful?" Nikki asked, reaching out to touch MacGyver's forearm. "We've both managed to find love!"

"Did I just miss something?" Craig asked, his brows knitted together in confusion.

"Didn't Mac tell you? He's engaged!"

"You old dog!" Bannister exclaimed as he let go of Nikki long enough to give MacGyver a manly hug. "Who is she? When did this happen?"

Mac laughed at his former colleague's enthusiasm. "She's a teacher I met on my final assignment. We made it official a couple days ago. But what about you two?"

"We're taking things slow," Bannister conceded, smiling warmly down at Nikki. "And enjoying every minute of it!"

Nikki smiled back. "Mac told me all about Joanna during our flight. I can hardly wait to meet her!"

"You'll just have to get your boss to give you some time off to come back," Mac said, his words directed toward Nikki but his mischievous grin aimed at Craig Bannister.

"I doubt that will be a problem," Nikki winked.

Their reunion was interrupted by an announcement that the plane from Chicago to Los Angeles was boarding A flurry of good-byes were exchanged before Nikki and Craig headed to the terminal and Mac made his way to the parking structure where he had left his Jeep. Glancing at his watch, he was happy to see that he should be home by midnight. Two transatlantic flights in one day could really mess up a guy!

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Joanna sat at the Challengers Club reception desk and glanced at her watch with a sigh. It had been an achingly dull evening and she had sent Cynthia home a few hours ago. She knew she should leave as well, but she also knew she wouldn't be able to rest until she knew MacGyver was safe. She glared at the irritatingly quiet telephone. He had told her he'd be home by tonight. She assumed he would at least call and tell her when he was on his way. Unless something had gone wrong and he _couldn't_ call. What if the simple assignment had become dangerous? What if he had gotten captured, or injured, or worse?! A shiver slid down Joanna's spine and she noticed her hands had begun to shake. Where was Mac and why hadn't he called?

Growing weary of the pitiful looks the volunteers shot her way when they thought she wasn't looking, Jo got up and made her way to the corner where Frog slept fitfully, his stubby little legs twitching as if he were chasing something. Was he anxious about Mac as well?

"C'mon, Frog. Let's go home." Joanna roused the snoozing dog, clipping his leash to his collar. She wasn't quite sure when she had begun thinking of MacGyver's place as "home", but right now all she knew was that it was the only place she wanted to be.

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The autumn moon was high in the sky when MacGyver finally pulled into his driveway. His insides melted a bit when he saw Joanna's car pulled off to the side, allowing room for his Jeep, and dim light seeping through the living room window indicating she was inside. He had always returned from a mission to an empty house except for the times he let Jack stay over. He wasn't sure which scenario was worse, but coming home to Jo was definitely the best. Not wanting to startle her, he tried to warn her of his approach by loudly stomping his feet on his outdoor welcome mat and noisily jiggling the door knob. Upon crossing the threshold, he found Frog sprawled on one side of the couch and Joanna snuggled into the corner of the other, her knees pulled up to her chin, her back to him.

"Hi honey, I'm home!" he called cheerily despite his exhaustion knowing that soon this would become an everyday greeting. When Joanna didn't respond, his blood turned to ice. Something was very wrong. He hurried over to the couch, squeezing himself into the small space between his dog and his fiancé so he could look her in the eye. His heart clenched in alarm when he saw her smeared mascara and the now-dry tracks of tears she had shed.

"Baby! What's wrong? Are your folks okay? Did something happen at Challengers?"

In response, Joanna uncurled her legs and leaned forward, enveloping him in a tight embrace, her head upon his shoulder as she began to sob.

"I was so worried when you didn't come home and didn't call," she choked out, trying to swallow her tears.

"I'm sorry," he murmured soothingly into her ear, hugging her tighter. "I promise it won't happen again."

Without warning, her fear and worry morphed into anger and she pulled herself out of his arms.

"You also promised you were done with Phoenix!" she shot back accusingly.

"And I am! But this was a special case," Mac said in a plea to make her understand.

"And what are you going to do the next time they come to you with a _special case_?!"

"I don't know!" MacGyver replied, his voice growing louder with frustration. "What do you _want_ me to do?!"

"Oh no you don't!" she responded, pushing herself off the couch to put distance between them. "You do not get to put this on me! What am I supposed to say?! If I let you go I'll be worried sick and if I tell you not to you'll resent me!"

Mac leaned back on the couch with a sigh and scrubbed his face with his hands. He had to admit she had a point.

"Look, we're both tired and upset. Go home and get some rest and we'll talk about this tomorrow," he suggested calmly.

"No."

"What?"

"You heard me. I said 'no'. If we have a fight like this after we're married we won't be able to go our separate ways so why should we do it now?"

"Fine. We'll talk!" MacGyver snapped.

Joanna sat down in the cushioned chair next the couch, arms folded defensively across her chest, as a heavy silence shrouded the room only to be punctuated by Frog's intermittent snores. Each second that ticked by grated more deeply on Mac's nerves.

"I'm sorry I didn't call," he ground out if for no other reason than to break the unnerving stillness.

A sideways glance was the only proof that Jo had heard him.

"Well…?" he prompted.

"I'm not gonna apologize for worrying about you," she replied tartly.

"I'm not asking you to," he said softly, finally finding the words he knew he needed to say. "But I am asking you to trust me. Trust that I am committed to you and Challengers and not going to run off if Phoenix calls. But I'm also going to help my friends when they need me. That doesn't mean I don't love you or that I'm taking unnecessary risks. It's just a part of who I am. A part of me you said you loved." Here he chanced a small smile in her direction.

After several minutes, Joanna's lips fought to tug upwards in a smile of her own. "And I meant that. I apologize for overreacting," she said quietly. "You're not some child who needs protecting. You're a strong, capable man who has proven you can handle anything that comes your way. I'm sorry for not having more confidence in you."

MacGyver slid off the couch and crouched down in front of Joanna, taking her hands in his.

"I guess we both could've handled this better," he admitted, Jo nodding her agreement.

"So, are we still okay?" he asked, his fingers finding and caressing her diamond ring.

"Yeah," she replied, a sincere smile on her face. "I guess I underestimated how I would feel now that I know I'm gonna be your wife instead of being stuck in girlfriend limbo."

"Things _have_ changed, haven't they?" Mac mused.

"But in a good way."

"Yeah. In a very good way."

As if drawn by a magnet, they leaned toward each other, their lips meeting in a caress that said what words could not.


	30. A Place of His Own

**A Place of His Own**

Sam rolled over and covered his ears with his pillow. The Thorntons were bickering again. Over the past few weeks their arguments had become more frequent and much louder. And it was all his fault.

"I'm telling you, Connie, it's time he got a place of his own. He's been living here for almost six months, eats our food, uses our utilities, but hasn't paid so much as a dime in rent!"

"But that's the whole point, Peter. He's living here so he can _save_ money for rent."

"Well surely he has enough saved that he could contribute _something_ to the household expenses! If not, I'm going to demand MacGyver pay us child support!"

Sam heard Connie snicker. "Do you hear how foolish you sound?" she asked her husband.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Pete agreed reluctantly. "I just get so frustrated sometimes!"

"I know, dear." Both Sam and Connie knew that Pete's sour mood came primarily from still adjusting to his blindness and retirement. Sam's presence just exacerbated it.

Sensing that the latest storm had passed, Sam crawled out of bed and hurriedly showered and dressed. He strode through the kitchen where Pete sat at the table and Connie stood by the stove, grabbed a granola bar from the cupboard, and headed for the door.

"Don't you want some breakfast, dear?" Connie asked Sam cheerily as if she hadn't been arguing with her husband a short time earlier.

"No thanks," he replied. "I wanna get to work early." With that, he slipped out the door and into his car.

Upon arriving at the Tribune, Sam made his way to the cubicle next to Becca's that he had recently commandeered as his own, grabbing a copy of the latest edition of the newspaper as he went. As soon as he was seated at his desk, he quickly found the classified section and looked for the heading "Apartments for Rent". Pete was right. It was time for him to move on.

"You're here early."

Sam looked up, surprised to find Rebecca Williams standing in his doorway. He had been so engrossed in looking for a new home that he hadn't heard her approach.

"I, uh, I have some research to do," he stammered, not wanting anyone to know he was apartment-searching just yet. He knew that once word got out everyone would be giving him leads and advice, but this was something he wanted to do on his own. At least for now.

Pineapple Slurpee in hand, Becca came to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder at the newspaper. He closed it quickly, but not fast enough.

"You planning on moving?" she asked.

"I've been thinkin' about it," he replied nonchalantly. Actually, up until hearing Pete and Connie's argument this morning he hadn't been thinking about it at all.

"Maybe I can help!" Becca responded brightly.

Sam winced. He didn't want to hurt her by refusing her offer. Thankfully they were interrupted by his editor before he could answer.

"Malloy!" Hank barked. "I've got a missing child story breaking and need you to cover it. There's a reporter on scene but all my photographers are on other assignments. Here's the address." He slipped Sam a small piece of paper.

"Thanks!" Sam said to his editor before turning to face Becca. "I'm sorry. We'll talk when I get back, okay?"

Becca nodded but Sam had already left the office.

"What you standin' there for, Williams? Don't you have a police scanner to listen to or something?" Hank growled before he, too, left the cubicle.

XXXXX

"How did it go?" Becca was waiting for Sam in his office when he returned. Since they'd started dating, they'd also found themselves sharing each other's space.

"It was pretty intense," Sam replied, running his fingers through his dark brown hair. "The mother was hysterical. Her six-year-old daughter got on the school bus this morning but never made it to class. Who knows how long it would have taken to find out if the principal hadn't noticed and called home to verify the absence."

"That _is_ rough," Rebecca agreed, chewing on her lower lip. "Didn't a little boy disappear from a playground last week?"

"Yeah, but his father found him playing in a wooded area nearby. The kid was too young to say what happened and there was no evidence of a crime so everyone just assumed he had wandered off."

"Do you think the two stories are related?" Becca asked, her reporter's interest piqued.

"I don't know. Could be," Sam shrugged.

"While you were gone I got to thinking about your living situation," Rebecca stated, causing Sam's head to spin at the one-eighty degree turn the conversation had just taken. "There's an available apartment in my building. Nothing fancy, just a one-bedroom with basic furnishings but very affordable. I could call my landlord and set up a time for you to look at it."

Sam thought for a moment. The apartments he had seen advertised had either been too expensive or out in the suburbs. A place in Becca's nearby building would be perfect.

"I guess I could take a look," he replied with a calm that belied his excitement.

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MacGyver tapped lightly on the doorframe of Joanna's office to get her attention. Her head was down as she poured over the Challengers volunteer schedule she had been working.

"We haven't decided yet," she muttered, still consumed with her work.

"Decided what?" he asked.

At the sound of his voice, Jo's gaze shot up and locked with his.

"Oh, it's you," she said, breathing out a relieved sigh. "I've been calling a few people to tell them about our engagement. Mainly Geena from the law firm and the Vangs, but everyone I talk to wants to know if we set a date or where we're gonna live or something else related to the wedding. I keep telling them we haven't discussed it and are taking it slow."

"Do you _want_ to discuss it?" he asked, not really sure what answer he wanted to hear.

She shrugged. "Not necessarily. It's kinda nice just being together and not worrying about all that other stuff. It can wait." Her sweet smile reassured him.

"In that case, how'd you like to go to Chicago this weekend?"

"What?" she asked in confusion.

Mac suppressed a smile. Spontaneity was _not_ Joanna's middle name.

"Sam called last night after you left. Seems he moved into his own apartment," MacGyver explained.

Jo's eyebrows shot up. "When did this happen?"

"A couple weeks ago, actually. He said he wanted to wait until he was settled to let me know in case his plans fell through. Anyway, he's invited us down to see his new place. I already called Pete and we can stay with him and Connie. I figure we'll take the Nomad in case Sam has anything he still needs to transport."

Joanna made a show of looking at her watch. "So, anything else happen in the last ten hours you want to tell me about?" she asked facetiously.

"Well, let's see," MacGyver squinted his eyes as if deep in thought. "I ate a blueberry yogurt, took a shower, and went to bed and dreamed about you," he smiled roguishly.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Jo retorted. "But to answer your initial question, of course I'll go to Chicago with you. I'd never pass up a chance to see Sam," she winked playfully.

XXXXX

It was mid-morning Saturday when MacGyver pulled the Nomad into the Thornton's driveway and parked besides Sam's VW. He and Joanna had just pulled their overnight bags out of the backseat when Connie called to them from where she stood in the doorway.

"Come in! Come in! I just took a batch of cookies out of the oven. Get them while they're still warm!"

The couple walked into the house and greeted Connie with friendly hugs before she ushered them to the kitchen table where Sam and Pete were already indulging in the sweet treat.

"I see you're still stickin' to your diet, hey Pete?" MacGyver smirked.

"Since when is it illegal to have a cookie now and then. And wipe that stupid grin off your face!" Pete protested.

Mac's smile only widened, glad to know that his friend still knew him so well.

"So, give me all the details," Connie demanded with a devilish smile as she pulled Joanna down in the chair next to hers.

"Details?" Jo asked.

"About the wedding!" Connie exclaimed, her enthusiasm out in full force. "Have you set a date? Do you have a hall in mind? Did you pick out a dress? Oooh, what are your colors going to be...I wouldn't want my dress to clash! Speaking of which, when will the invitations arrive? You know, these days you have to plan well in advance. Oh, and you're mom and I will throw you the best wedding shower!"

"And I'm gonna give you the most awesome bachelor party you've ever seen!" Sam promised MacGyver when Connie stopped for a breath.

"Have you decided who's gonna be your best man?" Pete asked, not wanting to be left out of the swirling conversation.

"Whoa!" Mac said, holding his hands up in front of him in a defensive gesture as his heart twisted at the stunned look on Joanna's face. "We just got engaged. Give us some time!"

"Time?!" Pete exclaimed. "At the rate you two are going you'll have to have the ceremony on my grave if you expect me to attend!"

Sam laughed, almost choking the milk he was about to swallow, and Mac shot his friend a dirty look.

"I saw that, MacGyver," Pete warned.

"Lucky guess," Mac muttered under his breath.

"And I _heard_ that!" Pete retorted causing everyone at the table to chuckle.

"Now, let's get you two settled so Sam can take you over to his new place," Connie said when the laughter died down. "Joanna, you can take Sam's old room, and Mac, you can take the couch like always."

Pete loudly cleared his throat and Connie blushed. "That is, unless you two are sleeping…"

"On the couch will be just fine," Mac assured the older woman, saving her from any embarrassment before turning his attention to Sam. "I brought the Nomad in case you still have some things to move."

"Nope! I'm good," his son replied airily, handing him a piece of paper. "You guys can follow me, but if we get separated, here's the address. It's just a couple blocks from the Tribune."

MacGyver found the place easily enough, even after losing Sam in the heavy downtown traffic. He allowed the car to roll to a stop in front of a large, four-story apartment building with a brick facade that had seen better days. He and Jo got out and met Sam who was already waiting for them on the narrow walkway that separated the front lawn and led to the main entrance.

"Hey Sam! Wanna play catch?!" An African-American boy about eight years old stood on the grass, tossing a tattered baseball into the air and catching it with an equally battered mitt.

"Sorry Ricky, but I've got company. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

The boy frowned slightly until he noticed Mac and Joanna. "Who are they?"

"That's my dad and his...um...his friend." Sam wasn't sure if the young boy would know what a fiance was so he decided to keep it simple.

Mac reached out to shake the boy's hand. "You can call me Mac and that's Joanna."

"You wanna play catch?" Ricky asked, his hopeful eyes darting between the couple. "I got an extra glove if ya need one!"

"Sounds fun, but maybe later, alright?" Mac smiled.

"Alright!" Ricky proclaimed. Buoyed by the vague promise, he once again began tossing the ball in the air.

"Cute kid. Does he live here?" Mac asked.

"Yeah. It's just him and his grandmother. No one knows who his dad is and his mom overdosed on drugs last year."

With a sad shake of his head, MacGyver followed his son into the lobby of the old building and was surprised when bright lights and freshly painted walls greeted him.

"The outside might not look like much, but the inside was entirely renovated a few years ago," Sam explained, obviously noticing his father's reaction. "I'm on the second floor. The stairs are over here."

As Sam led them to the stairwell Mac asked, "Isn't there an elevator?"

"I prefer the stairs," came the simple reply. Mac interpreted that as either there was no elevator or the elevator was broken. Or perhaps the elevator was working...for now.

Sam opened the door to his apartment and proudly stood aside to allow Joanna and his dad to enter.

"Well, what do you think?"

"It reminds me of the first apartment I had in Milwaukee," MacGyver replied as he studied the layout. To his left was an open area with a couch, recliner, television and computer desk. To his right was a small eating area and galley kitchen. Down the short hallway were two doors across from each other. Obviously the bedroom and bathroom.

"Then you like it?" Sam asked.

"I didn't say _that_ ," Mac replied with a crooked grin before looping his arms around his son's neck in a playful choke-hold. "Actually, I think it's great!"

"Sam, is that you?" a feminine voice called.

MacGyver let go of Sam and looked down the hall to see Becca emerge from either the bedroom or bathroom. He wasn't sure which.

"Yeah, and I brought my dad and Joanna along," he clarified as he met her halfway across the room and casually took her hand.

Mac and Jo exchanged glances. Her's amused, his not so much, before they greeted Rebecca.

"You didn't tell me you had a roommate," MacGyver observed, making a concerted effort to keep his voice from raising an octave. Sam and Becca were both adults and if they wanted to move in together it was none of his business. He sighed. When had he become such a fuddy-duddy?

"Huh?" Sam asked, before realizing what the scene must look like to his dad. "Oh! No! Rebecca lives in an apartment upstairs. She's just here helping me clean things up. In fact, she's the one who told me about this place."

The ringing of the telephone saved Mac from having to pull his foot out of his mouth. Sam took the call in the kitchen and spoke for only a few moments before reappearing.

"That was Hank, my editor. He needs me to cover a story. Think you'll be okay on your own for awhile?"

"I suppose we can manage," MacGyver replied wryly

"Great! I'll be back as soon as I can!" Sam grabbed his satchel and camera case and hurried out the door.

"Why don't we go up to my place," Rebecca suggested. "You must be starving. I'll make us some sandwiches."

Becca had just stepped into her apartment when a brown and white yapping blur of fur flew across the room to greet her. She bent down and gave the dog an affectionate pat.

"Who's your friend?" Mac asked as the canine looked up at him, big eyes and long ears creating a comical expression.

"His name is pronounced 'Kip', but I spell it with a 'C'. It's kinda a long story."

"What kind of dog is he?" Joanna asked as Cip warily sniffed her shoe.

"He's an Airedale mix. No one is quite sure what he's actually mixed with. It's probably either a Shih Tzu or a coon dog. His former owner actually trained him as a hunting dog."

"Who would give up such a great dog?" Mac asked, crouching down to run a hand over Cip's back.

"Well, he was kinda orphaned."

MacGyver looked up at Becca, questions dancing in his eyes.

"His owner was murdered." Becca supplied.

Mac's eyes went wide. "Murdered? So how'd you end up with him?"

"It's kinda a long story," Rebecca shrugged.

"Of course," Mac muttered as he stood up to survey the apartment and Joanna took her turn petting Cip.

Becca's rooms were laid out exactly like Sam's only her decorating taste leaned toward eclectic. An old manual typewriter sat next to her computer monitor, and a set of expensive-looking encyclopedias lined part of the wall. MacGyver, however, was drawn to a bobblehead of Mr. Spock from Star Trek sitting on a bookshelf.

"You a fan?" he asked, reaching out to tap the oversized head and activate the spring action.

"Yeah," she smiled self-consciously. "I guess that makes me kinda nerdy."

"No way!" Mac assured her. "The show's a classic." Even though he didn't see the attraction of science fiction, he could definitely respect television history. "Watch any of the spin-offs?"

"Ugh!" Becca rolled her eyes in disgust. "I don't know why they even bother. Nothing can beat the original series!"

MacGyver laughed in agreement before Rebecca excused herself to make lunch. Minutes later, the trio sat at a small dining table biting into ham and cheese sandwiches with potato chips.

"So, Becca, are you from Chicago?" Mac asked in between bites. Despite the fact that Sam had brought Rebecca into their lives a few months ago, MacGyver realized he and Jo knew very little about the eager reporter.

"No," she responded, shaking her head as she swallowed a sip of lemonade. "I've only been here about a year. I'm actually from Kentucky but I moved to Santa Barbara to go to college. I majored in English like Joanna but studied to become a librarian."

Mac's curious mind couldn't help probing. "So how do you go from wanting to be a librarian to being a freelance crime reporter?"

"I needed money and ended up getting a job as a secretary for the Santa Barbara Police Department. I made friends with a couple of the detectives and even got to help out on a couple cases. I started writing about it in my journal but then decided I could make some extra cash if I sold the stories instead. Someone at the Tribune saw one of my articles and I guess the rest is history."

Rebecca had just finished speaking when loud voices from the front yard drew all three of them to the window. An elderly, African-American woman was in tears and gesturing frantically as Sam appeared to be trying to calm her down. The scene had gathered a small crowd of onlookers.

"Who's that with Sam?" Mac asked Becca, his adrenaline beginning to pump when he saw the concern on her face.

"That's Mrs. Jefferson, Ricky's grandma. I wonder what happened?"

"Let's go find out," MacGyver said as he strode out of the apartment, Rebecca and Joanna trailing behind him.

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"Mrs. Jefferson, just take a deep breath and tell me everything that happened," Sam coached the nearly hysterical woman. He had just returned from his assignment only to find Ricky's grandmother outside in her housecoat crying and calling her grandson's name. He looked up and saw MacGyver, Joanna, and Becca headed straight towards them, ready to help in any way they could.

"I called out the window to tell Ricky to come in for lunch," she choked out between sobs. "When he didn't come in, I came down here to get him but he was gone! I looked all around the building, calling his name, but he never answered!" These last words sent her into a renewed frenzy.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Sam asked, his voice calm but firm. He glanced up at his dad who nodded slightly, indicating that Sam was on the right track.

"Before I took my shower. About forty-five minutes ago."

"Okay, that's good," Sam encouraged her. "Now, what was he wearing?"

"Jeans. He always wears jeans. And those worn out tennis shoes. Other than that, I can't remember," she wailed, slumping helplessly into Sam's arms.

MacGyver stepped forward and addressed the small crowd that had gathered, glad for his keen observation skills and memory of meeting the child earlier that day. "Okay everyone! We're looking for an eight-year-old African-American boy who lives in this apartment building. He's wearing jeans, old sneakers, a red t-shirt and a Chicago Cubs cap. He may also be carrying a baseball and glove. His name is Ricky. We'd appreciate it if you could all spread out and help us look for him."

As the people dispersed, whether to look for the boy or carry on with their own lives, MacGyver joined Becca and Jo who were now huddled around Sam and Mrs. Jefferson.

"We need to go inside and call the police," he told them.

Mrs. Jefferson gathered herself and pushed away from Sam. "You think he was kidnapped like those other children?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry.

"What other children?" Mac asked, his pulse ratcheting up.

"Um, maybe we should talk about this inside?" Becca ventured.

"Would you mind telling me what's going on, Sam?" Mac demanded when their small group was safely ensconced inside Mrs. Jefferson's small, two-bedroom apartment just down the hall from Becca's.

"A few weeks ago a toddler disappeared from the playground he was at with his father. His dad found him playing alone on the edge of a nearby wooded area and the whole thing was pretty much forgotten. Then a week later a six-year-old girl got on the school bus in the morning but never made it to class. She was found several hours later alone at Navy Pier."

"How did _that_ happen?" Joanna asked.

"The girl said that when she got off the bus she saw a man sitting on a swing on the playground. She knew she shouldn't talk to strangers, but she felt bad for him because he looked sad and lonely. He asked if they could play together and she agreed."

"So he took her down to Navy Pier, played games and then abandoned her?" Mac found this hard to believe.

"The girl said the man told her he had to get home because he would get in trouble if he missed supper. They had taken the bus to the pier and she didn't know how to get back," Sam supplied.

"Did she give a description of the man?" Jo pressed

"According to the police her description was vague and kept changing," Sam sighed. "And since both kids were found alone and safe they're hesitant to classify the incidences as kidnappings."

"Well, the common denominator is that all the kids, including Ricky, wanted to play," MacGyver declared.

"Aw man," Sam moaned. "If I had stopped and played catch with him when we first came maybe none of this would have happened."

Mac put a strong, comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "Now don't go thinkin' like that. We're not here to find fault. We're here to find Ricky."

"I bet Cip could help!" Becca volunteered. "He was trained as a hunting dog when he was a pup."

Sam's face brightened. "It sure couldn't hurt to try! Mrs. Jefferson, could I have a piece of Ricky's clothes from the dirty laundry so Becca's dog can get his scent?"

The older woman silently hurried away and quickly returned with a wrinkled cotton shirt which she handed to Sam.

"Jo, could you please call the cops and stay with Mrs. Jefferson while we go look for Ricky?" Mac asked, regret in his eyes at having to leave her behind.

"I'll take care of everything here," she promised with a reassuring smile. "Just let us know if you find anything."

Becca hurried back to her apartment to retrieve Cip. After clipping an extra long lead onto his collar she met up with Sam and MacGyver who were waiting in the front yard. Sam offered her the shirt Mrs. Jefferson had given him and she held it under Cip's nose, making sure he got a good, strong scent. The dog lifted his head, looked around, and then took off down the sidewalk with the trio of humans in tow.

After several minutes and a number of direction changes, Sam began to wonder if this had been such a good idea.

"Do you think Cip knows where he's going?" he asked his dad in a low voice that Rebecca wasn't supposed to hear, but she did anyway.

"Of course he knows where he's going!" she snapped. "He just needs some time!"

The dog led them in a circle, twice, before tugging on his leash and scampering to the edge of a vacant lot where he abruptly sat down. It didn't take long to find Ricky playing catch with a strange man. Cip let out a bark to get the boy's attention.

"Hey Sam! Wanna play catch with us?!" Ricky invited cheerfully.

Sam glanced at Mac before breaking away from the small group and walking toward the boy, keeping the strange man in his peripheral vision.

"Hey buddy!" Sam greeted him. "Who's your friend?"

"That's Darrell," Ricky supplied casually. "He saw me playing and asked if he could play too. He said he knew of a place where we could throw the ball really far so we came here. Do you wanna meet him?"

"Yeah, that'd be great!"

Ricky motioned for Darrell to join them and the man reluctantly approached. Tall and stocky, he appeared to be in his early thirties with blond hair that was cut very short and pale gray eyes filled with something akin to fear.

"These are my friends Sam and Rebecca, and that's Sam's dad," Ricky told him, pointing to MacGyver.

"Hi Darrell, it's nice to meet you," Sam said, reaching out to shake the other man's hand. But Darrell stared at the ground, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another while he held onto his baseball glove as if for dear life.

"Wha...what time is it," the blond man asked without looking up.

Caught off-guard, Sam looked at his watch. "It's almost four o'clock."

"I...I have to ge...get home for sup...supper," Darrell stuttered, still slightly rocking back and forth.

"Okay," Sam replied, not sure what to make of this interaction. "Where do you live? We'll walk with you."

"I live in the big gray house."

"And where is the big gray house?" Sam asked.

Darrell looked around and apparently decided he was lost. "I...I don't know."

Suddenly Sam felt a tug on his shirt sleeve and turned to find Becca standing next to him and MacGyver several steps away talking on his cell phone.

"I think I know where he lives," Becca informed Sam in a whisper. "There's a group home for adults with cognitive delays a few blocks from our apartment."

"Hey Darrell," Sam called. "I know where your house is. Why don't we walk you home?"

No answer.

"It's okay, Darrell," Ricky assured him. "We'll get you back in time for supper and then maybe we can play ball again tomorrow!"

Darrell smiled innocently at the boy. "I'd like that."

The small group set out, following Rebecca's lead. Darrell chatted and laughed easily with Ricky, but remained hesitant with the adults. When they arrived at the group home it was to find Mrs. Jefferson, Joanna, a couple police officers and a middle-aged woman who appeared to be in charge and was introduced to them as Mrs. Connolly waiting for them. Spying her grandson, Mrs. Jefferson hurried down the porch stairs and wrapped him in a hug that Sam feared would suffocate the boy.

"Where have you been, Darrell?!" Mrs. Connolly scolded. "You know better than to go off without telling anyone!"

"I...I'm sorry. But I...I came back in...in time for supper."

Mrs. Connolly's face softened as she addressed everyone. "Never misses a meal, this one!" Then she turned to Darrell, her voice gentler this time. "Have you been sneaking out to find someone to play with?"

He nodded guiltily.

"Do you think you could tell these nice policemen about the kids you've met?"

Again Darrell nodded.

"Then let's all go in the house and have a nice chat before I put dinner on the table," she smiled so as not to alarm Darrell and herded her charge and the police officers through the front door.

"Thank you for everything you all have done," she said, turning back to Sam and his friends before disappearing into the house.

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"So no one's gonna press any charges?!" Pete asked incredulously the next day as everyone gathered in the Thornton's kitchen for brunch.

"That's right," MacGyver replied as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. "The parents of the victims were all very understanding and even sympathetic when they discovered that, in spite of his appearance, Darrell only has the psychological age of a ten-year-old."

Joanna picked up the explanation from there. "The father of the toddler at the playground pretty much blames himself for letting his son wander off in the first place. Darrell just admitted to picking the little guy up to help him get to where he seemed to want to go. As for the girl from the school bus, her mother was very upset that she even dared approach a stranger and Darrell didn't understand that the girl needed to be at school instead of out having fun."

"And of course Ricky went off more than willingly and thanks to Becca and Cip everything worked out for both him _and_ Darrell," Pete concluded.

"But it goes to show that the city needs more appropriate resources for people like Darrell," Becca spoke up. "Mrs. Connolly said she is going to try and make more of an effort to help Darrell get the socialization skills and opportunities he requires, but that will take time and money."

"I know it's not your usual genre, but maybe you could write an article to help expose this problem. If the right people see it, someone may step up and help," Sam suggested, smiling at his friend.

"There's no 'maybe' about it! I am _definitely_ gonna write an article about this and make sure Hank publishes it. And not bury it on the back page of the classified section either!"

"Sounds like you might have another passion other than the crime beat," MacGyver observed.

Becca considered this before answering. "I wouldn't say that. Darrell's situation _is_ a crime, just one that people like to sweep under the rug and not deal with because it's not as straightforward as robberies or murder."

"The girl has a point," Pete beamed approvingly.

"Ya know Pete, I've been thinking," Mac began.

"Oh no!" the older man groaned and rubbed his forehead as the others laughed.

"C'mon, hear me out," MacGyver urged. "Maybe you could talk to some of your friends at Phoenix and see if they can look into some types of programs for cognitively delayed adults who lack needed resources."

Pete stared at his friend despite his blindness. "You know the budget is tight, MacGyver. For heaven's sake, the Foundation cut the funding for Challengers!"

Mac waved Pete's protest aside. "Challengers will be fine. We'll find a way to get what we need. There are other causes out there that need more help than we do."

"I'll make some phone calls tomorrow and see what I can do," Pete promised. "You're a good man, Mac. I hope Joanna knows how lucky she is to have you."

"Oh no!" Connie, who had been silent up until now, wailed. "With all the excitement yesterday, we never got a chance to talk about the wedding!"

Joanna winced, then appeared contrite. "Maybe we could-"

"Sorry to interrupt," Mac broke in, not really sorry at all, "But we need to hit the road."

Jo shrugged then smiled at Connie. "Maybe Mac and I will come down more often now that Sam has a place of his own. After all, we wouldn't want him to get lonesome."

"I doubt _that_ will be a problem," MacGyver said wryly, his gaze focused on his son and Becca, their heads bowed together, sharing a whispered conversation in a world of their own.

 _ **Author's Note: Thanks to my good friend and fellow fan fic writer, Sanguine, for allowing me to borrow Rebecca, Cip, and their backstories!**_


	31. New Hope

**New Hope**

The drive home from Chicago was completed in relative silence. Every now and again MacGyver glanced over at Joanna only to find her staring out the passenger side window. Once he caught her swatting away an errant teardrop and his heart hiccuped. He asked if she was okay and of course she said she was. He knew better than to ask twice. Something was obviously bothering her, but he knew she would talk about it when she was ready and not a minute before. When they arrived at his townhouse, he unlocked the front door and she quietly slipped past him, taking a seat on the couch and hoisting Frog onto her lap for a cuddle session while he poured a glass of juice and berated himself for feeling jealous of a dog. He slowly made his way to the living room and took his place on the couch, waiting for her to break the stony silence.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she murmured as she rhythmically stroked Frog's back.

MacGyver remained silent, hoping she would continue.

"I wish I hadn't told anyone about our engagement," she moaned, turning her chocolate brown eyes on him. "I'm already getting so tired of all the questions about the wedding. Just getting engaged was a big step for us. I'd kinda like to just enjoy that for awhile."

Resting his arm on the top of the couch, he gently caressed her cheek.

"Is this about Connie, Pete and Sam?"

"No," Jo shook her head. "They were just the proverbial last straw. Have you told anyone else?"

"I called Jack and Penny. They're really excited for us, but they had a bunch of questions, too. Especially Penny."

"I can only imagine," Joanna laughed softly. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them we weren't thinking that far ahead and that we have all the time in the world."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course," Mac replied, perplexed why she would question him. "I thought we already decided that. Why do you ask?"

Joanna shrugged and broke eye contact as she turned her face away from him and his touch. After a moment she addressed him softly.

"When our friendship began to turn into something more, we set some boundaries for certain aspects of our relationship. I had some time to think in Chicago and started wondering if maybe you had proposed because you were getting impatient and wanted to speed things up."

MacGyver was stunned and a bit angry that she thought so little of him, if only for a moment. But then he turned his focus back to her and his heart squeezed.

"Aw baby," Mac muttered as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. "You have to know I would never try to manipulate you like that. I was part of that decision, too, and I promise you that every moment we're together I'm happier and more fulfilled than I've ever been with anyone else. I proposed to you to prove, once and for all, that I'm always gonna be here for you. I had absolutely no ulterior motive."

"So you're okay if we end up having a long engagement?"

"Absolutely. We've come this far on our own terms. Why change now?"

Joanna's face lit up and the worry that had been there before was washed away.

"I think you just made me love you even more," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck for a toe curling kiss as Frog, forgotten and squished between his two humans, began to whine.

XXXXX

After Joanna left, seemingly soothed by his words and kisses, the enormity of their situation hit him head on. As her husband, it would be his responsibility to see that she was safe and protected, physically as well as emotionally. Not that Jo couldn't take care of herself. She was strong, independent, and stubborn. But he knew her heart was soft and vulnerable and while he was honored that she had chosen to give it to him, he was also scared witless that he would mess up somehow and betray the unconditional trust she had placed in him. Figuring sleep would be a long time coming, he grabbed one of his favorite Westerns from the bookshelf and shoved it in the VCR before flopping down on the couch. His eyes fluttered closed as the familiar theme music began to play.

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 _ **Boston, MA**_

 _ **January, 1863**_

" _I'm telling you, Kate, this is the opportunity we've been waiting for!"_

" _Angus, you know I prefer to be called 'Katherine' now! Besides, what about your job at my father's newspaper? He told me in confidence that you're next in line for a promotion. Besides, we agreed to stay settled until Samuel was grown."_

" _Come on, Kate!" The well-coiffed blonde woman raised an eyebrow at her husband which he deftly ignored. "Sammy's already five years old. This would be a great experience for him. For all of us. We've talked about moving West ever since we got married. Where's your sense of adventure?"_

" _Perhaps I lost it when you took a job as a scout for the Union Army and left me here to care for a three-year-old by myself!"_

" _If I recall, we made that decision together. The job was temporary and the pay was good"_

" _I just don't see what you have against staying and working for Daddy!"_

" _I'm a grown man with a family now. Maybe I don't want to live in the house your father owns or work as cog in the great Malloy Newspaper Empire. I want us to strike out on our own, build a home that's ours, get away from the noise and pollution of city life like we talked about when we were courting. The least you could do is hear me out."_

" _Fine," Katherine said with a pout. "I'll listen, but I'm not making any promises." She seated herself on the edge of a dainty chair while her husband paced back and forth in front of her filled with an energy he hadn't displayed since he had applied for that job with the Army._

" _Last year the government passed what they call the Homestead Act. Just by filling out an application anyone can get 160 acres of free land out West!"_

" _Free land?" Katherine frowned. "It sounds too good to be true."_

" _Well, there are a few requirements," her husband hedged._

" _Like what?"_

" _We'd have to build a home on the land and farm it for at least five years."_

" _Five years?!"_

" _Think about it, Kate. I could plant corn or soybeans on part of it and buy some cattle to raise on the other. We could build the ranch we used to dream about. Buy up surrounding land once profits start coming in."_

" _I guess it's something worth considering," she sighed. "Promise me we'll think on it before we make any decisions."_

 _Her husband stopped his pacing and knelt beside her. "There's something I have to tell you."_

" _What is it?" she asked suspiciously._

" _There's a lot of frontier land out there now, but it'll get taken up real fast with the government just giving it away. Lots of folks are looking for a fresh start."_

" _What are you trying to say, Angus?"_

 _He bowed his head. "I already filled out an application and found out today that we've been granted a parcel of land."_

" _You made the decision to uproot your family and move to the middle of nowhere without even consulting me?!" Katherine's voice rose in anger._

" _I thought you'd be excited! Here, look," he encouraged, a twinkle in his eye as he pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his vest. "Our place is right there," he said, pointing to a hand-drawn map. "Just outside the little town of New Hope in the Nebraska Territory. And it's still early enough for me to get a crop in the ground this spring yet."_

" _I refuse to travel in winter," she sniffed. "Especially with Samuel. What if he fell ill? Besides, he needs to complete his lessons. We're contracted with the tutor until spring."_

" _I know. That's why I decided it would be best if I packed a few necessities and headed out next week. If the weather cooperates, I could get our house built and send for you and Sammy in a couple months. Come on, Kate," he implored. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Let's start making our dreams come true!"_

 _ **New Hope, Nebraska Territory**_

 _ **Mid-Summer 1863**_

" _Good morning, Mr. Thornton. Did my shipment of textbooks arrive yet?" Miss Anna Fairfax asked the balding man working behind the counter of the General Store._

" _I'm sorry, Miss Fairfax. Perhaps on the next stage," he replied with an apologetic smile._

" _Please, only my students address me as 'Miss Fairfax'. Call me Anna."_

" _Sure thing, Miss Anna. How are you settlin' in to New Hope?"_

" _The previous school teacher left everything very well organized and the little house the town provides is just perfect! I already feel right at home."_

" _Well, people are mighty glad to have you here. 'Spect it's a lot different than Chicago, though."_

" _Indeed. But in a good way. Everyone is so friendly and helpful. Several families have even invited me to dinner."_

 _Just then the little bell above the door began to tinkle. Anna turned to see a ruggedly handsome man step into the small store. She figured he stood a bit over six feet tall, his dark, piercing eyes immediately grabbing her attention. Given his full, light brown mustache, scruff of a beard, and hair that grazed his collar she figured he must be a rancher or hired hand._

" _Will that be all, Miss Anna?" the shopkeeper asked, breaking into her thoughts._

" _I believe so, but if you don't mind I'll just take a look around to be sure."_

" _Go right ahead and let me know if you need any assistance," he told her before turning his attention to the man. "Mornin' MacGyver. I have your order all set to go. I just have to get it from the storeroom."_

" _Excuse me," Anna said, approaching the stranger. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help overhearing Mr. Thornton call you MacGyver. I'm Anna Fairfax, the new school teacher, and I believe I saw your son Samuel's name on the roster for the fall term."_

" _He goes by 'Sammy'," the man all but growled._

" _Of course," Anna replied, taken aback at MacGyver's tone of voice. "I've been trying to meet all my students before class officially starts. I don't suppose you brought him into town with you today?"_

" _Nope."_

" _Here you go, MacGyver," Thornton said from behind a pile of parcels. "You be needin' anything else?"_

" _Nope," MacGyver replied, picking up his goods and heading out the door without even saying goodbye._

" _He's certainly a talkative fella," Anna observed sarcastically._

" _He didn't used to be that way," the shopkeeper said sadly._

" _What happened?"_

" _Now, I ain't one to go talkin' about a fella behind his back, but since you'll be schoolin' his son I suppose you have a right to know." Thornton sighed and settled himself on a stool before continuing. "He came to town this past winter under the Homestead Act. Left his wife and son behind in Boston until he could get a house built. Nicest guy you could ever meet. Friendly, helpful, always seein' the good in people. When he wasn't working on his own place he'd be helping out a neighbor or one of the townsfolk. Has a real knack for fixin' stuff and workin' with his hands. When he finished his place he sent for his family. Since the railroad doesn't run through New Hope they had to take a stagecoach for the last leg of the trip. Stage ended up being robbed by bandits. His son and another man were the only survivors. Story goes that Sammy hid under the seat and saw them shoot his ma dead. No boy should ever be seein' that. When word got to MacGyver, he went to pick up his son and he came back a changed man. The man you saw today."_

" _That's horrible!" Anna cried. "There must be something I can do to help!"_

" _Problem is, MacGyver won't accept any help. He cut him and that boy off from everyone and everything. Comes into town a couple times a month for feed and supplies, otherwise they just stay holed up on that farm. Quite frankly, I'm surprised he's lettin' Sammy attend that school of yours."_

 _XXXXX_

 _The first week of school had drawn to a close and MacGyver was at his wits end, not to mention physically exhausted. He worked the land from sun-up to supper time and spent the evenings giving his son as much attention as possible. He found that filling every waking minute with chores or distractions kept the guilt and pain of his wife's death at bay. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Sammy who woke up in tears calling for his mother every night since his classes began. This had been a common occurrence for weeks after the robbery, but his son had seemed to have gotten over it in the past weeks. When the child's plaintive cries rang out in the wee hours of Saturday morning, MacGyver knew he had to get to the root of the cause. He quietly stepped into his son's room and sat on the edge of the bed, cradling Sammy in his arms and rocking him gently until the boy's sobs subsided._

" _Hey Sammy, what's goin' on? Why all the cryin' lately?"_

 _The child shrugged and rubbed his eyes as MacGyver waited for him to speak. Finally the truth came out._

" _It's my teacher, Miss Fairfax."_

 _MacGyver bit back a curse. He should have known the pretty little schoolmarm was to blame. A fire began to burn in the pit of his stomach. He had a bad feeling about her from the moment he met her in Thornton's store that fine summer morning. But he had assumed she would be a danger to his well-being, not his son's. He had been unpleasantly surprised at how his pulse skittered when he looked into her chocolate brown eyes, or how his fingers tingled to set her long brunette hair free from the neat bun at the nape of her neck. His wife had only been gone a few months. How could he possibly have feelings like this for another woman so soon? He had spent the next weeks avoiding her, not that it was very hard since he hardly ever set foot in town. But he kept his guard up anyway._

" _What did Miss Fairfax do?" he asked his son._

" _She calls me 'Samuel', just like Ma used to and then I remember how much I miss her," he sniffled._

 _MacGyver fumed. He had told the teacher that his son's name was 'Sammy'. Apparently she didn't take direction well. He intended to fix that first thing in the morning._

 _After completing his chores, MacGyver saddled up his favorite horse and rode to the little house next to the school where Miss Fairfax lived. He found her working in a small garden._

" _We need to talk," he told her sternly as he dismounted. "The first day we met I told you my son was to be called 'Sammy', not 'Samuel'!"_

" _I'm sorry, Mr. MacGyver, but I make it a point to address all my students by their Christian name."_

" _And I make it a point to protect my son! From now on you will call him 'Sammy'!"_

" _Why?" she asked softly, catching him off guard._

 _He took a moment to gather himself before answering. "His mother didn't like nicknames. She always called him 'Samuel'."_

 _Anna gasped before he could continue. "And by calling him 'Samuel' I'm awakening memories of his mother."_

" _Afraid so."_

" _I'm so sorry. I never meant any harm."_

 _The sheen of sudden, unshed tears in her eyes made his heart ache in a new and different way._

" _I'm sorry, too. I should have explained my reasoning instead of just giving you an order."_

" _Well, you don't have to worry. From now on I'll call him 'Sammy' and I have a strong hunch I'll be revising my own policy in the near future."_

" _I'm much obliged," he replied, touching the brim of his hat and turning back towards his horse._

 _XXXXX_

" _But Pa! All the kids in school have already had her over for supper at least once! Why can't we?"_

" _Because Miss Fairfax is a very fine school teacher and we don't want to take the risk of my cooking running her out of town."_

" _You make a great stew!"_

 _MacGyver smiled at his son's enthusiasm. Over the past several weeks, Sammy had grown very fond of Miss Fairfax and, to be honest, so had he. Knowing it was time for farmers to harvest their fields and prepare for the upcoming winter, Anna had begun to keep Sammy after school, assigning him special duties to keep him busy and safe while MacGyver got the small ranch in order. He supposed he owed her a thank you for that, at least. And he did make a pretty good stew if he did say so himself._

" _All right," MacGyver capitulated. "You can ask her if she'd like to come to supper tonight. But use your manners and don't get upset if she says no."_

 _That evening, Anna Fairfax joined the two men for supper and for the first time since he had moved in, MacGyver's house finally felt like a home with her filling a place at his table and in his heart that had been empty too long. After lingering over dessert and convincing Sammy to get ready for bed because it was still a school night, MacGyver escorted Anna onto the front porch, regretting that he never did get around to hanging the wooden swing he had made. The October air was unusually warm and humid and laden with the scent of rain._

 _He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but somewhere in the midst of discussing the possibility of an imminent thunderstorm and having to put the horses up for the night, his lips found Anna's and they met in a sweet caress that warmed him from the inside out._

" _I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he muttered, pulling away._

 _Anna lowered her head. "You're still in love with your wife."_

" _She'll always hold a special place in my heart, and Sammy's as well." He had intended to stop there, but the words he had held inside since the stagecoach robbery finally broke free. "It's my fault she died."_

 _Anna looked up at him with a mixture of compassion and confusion. "How do you figure? I thought stagecoach robbers killed her."_

 _MacGyver ran a hand through his hair and moved to lean against the porch railing._

" _Kate refused to come with me when I left Boston. She wanted to wait until spring when she thought travel would be easier. I should have either forced her and Sammy to come when I did or just put my plans on hold until the weather broke. Either way I would have been there for her. I could have protected her like a good husband should."_

 _From the corner of his eye, he saw Anna shake her head and slowly approach him, her small hand hesitantly touching his shoulder. "It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing. Besides, if you had been on that stage you might have been killed instead, leaving your wife and son alone in a strange new world. Or worse, you both could have died leaving Sammy an orphan."_

" _It doesn't matter," MacGyver replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. "She died because I failed her and I won't allow myself to do that to anyone ever again."_

" _So you think by staying tucked away on this ranch with your son nothing bad will ever happen?" she challenged._

" _Of course not. Bad things will always happen. The best one can do is try and even the odds."_

 _They stood gazing out at the vast prairie that spread before them in a silence that was interrupted only by the lowing of cattle in the meadow and the occasional scuffle of horses' hooves on the hay-covered stable floor. In the distant sky, reflections of faraway lightning danced amongst the clouds._

" _Looks like there's a storm comin'," MacGyver stated flatly. "We best get you home. I'll go saddle my horse."_

" _No," Anna commanded. "I don't live that far. I'll be fine. You stay here with Sammy."_

" _But…"_

"' _But' what?" she asked in her best teacher voice. "What if something happens to me on my way home? Then I guess I made a poor decision refusing your company. But it will have been my decision, not yours. Whatever does or doesn't happen won't be your fault, MacGyver. It will be mine."_

 _XXXXX_

 _MacGyver was jolted awake from a fitful slumber by the crash of a nearby lightning strike. Moments later, Sammy was crawling into bed with him._

" _It's okay, son, it's just a little thunderstorm," MacGyver assured him. "But I'd best check on the livestock anyway."_

 _MacGyver crawled out of bed and pulled on his work pants and shirt from the day before. He opened the front door and immediately felt a difference in the air. A feel of foreboding enveloped him. The cattle had huddled into a small group in the pasture and the horses were snorting their displeasure at the turn in the weather. In the distance, he heard the familiar sound of a train chugging across the land. He stopped short. New Hope was nowhere near a railroad line. His mind flashed back to his childhood in Minnesota. He only knew of one other thing that sounded like that. A twister was bearing down on them!_

" _Sammy! Head for the root cellar!" he yelled above the strengthening wind as he ran back towards the house in time to see his son pull open the front door and scurry to the side of the house where MacGyver was already tugging on the large wooden doors that opened to the underground stairway that would lead them to shelter. He sat on the dirt floor, holding Sammy tight as the storm raged above them hoping with all his might that the house and outbuildings he had sacrificed so much to build would escape damage and destruction. He felt his ears pop and Sammy whimpered. Moments later, all was deathly quiet. With his son in his arms, he pushed open the cellar doors and climbed out. He breathed a sigh of relief and thankfulness upon discovering that his little ranch had been spared from the storm's wrath. But his comfort was short-lived. In the distance, the peal of the town's church bells heralded news of a catastrophe. He quickly tucked Sammy back into bed despite the boy's protests and then saddled a mount and galloped toward town to assist in any way he could, intending to check on Anna on his way._

 _It didn't take long until the sturdy silhouette of the schoolhouse came into view, but MacGyver's pulse skidded to a halt when he saw the teacher's cottage leveled to a pile of wooden slats. His chest clenched, lungs burned, and bile rose in the back of his throat at the horrific sight. He leapt off his horse before the animal fully stopped, calling Anna's name. But the rain now pounded loud on the debris and drowned out his tortured words. Desperate with grief and not knowing what else to do, MacGyver continued to call her name as he threw boards off the pile that had once been Anna's home. Tears sprung to his eyes at the thought of finding her crushed, lifeless body beneath the rubble. Yet he continued to frantically rip away at the debris. Between the noise of the storm and the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears, MacGyver almost didn't hear the weak cry coming from the school._

" _MacGyver! I'm over here! I'm alright!"_

 _He turned to find Anna standing just inside the open doorway to the school, one hand waving to him while the other held her nightgown wrapper tightly around her as her long, loose hair billowed in the wind. An overwhelming relief such that he had never felt before washed over him and he tossed aside the lumber he held, ran to where she stood, and wrapped his arms around her. Without a second thought, he kissed her more soundly than he had ever kissed anyone...even Kate._

" _Oh, baby, I thought I'd lost you," he muttered breathlessly once their lips parted. "I should've insisted you stay at the ranch where I could protect you until the storm passed. I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you."_

" _But I am okay," Anna assured him, smoothing her hand over his rain-slicked hair. "And I have you to thank for it," she smiled._

" _What?" MacGyver asked, happiness giving way to confusion. "How?"_

 _Anna bowed her head shyly. "I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of this past evening with you so I decided to come over to the school and grade some papers. When I heard the tornado coming I crawled under the desk. If it hadn't been for the wonderful time I had with you keeping me awake, I would have been asleep in my bed when the storm hit. So you see, MacGyver, you_ did _protect me!"_

" _And I want to go on protecting you for the rest of my life," he told her huskily before once again finding her sweet lips. And though he wasn't the kind of man given to romantic flights of fancy, he swore he could hear bells ringing as he deepened their kiss._

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The ringing continued and MacGyver groaned, lazily opening eye.

"Go away!" he called to the telephone. The ringing stopped. Then started up again a couple minutes later.

"Aw man," he complained as he got up, shaking his head to release the remnants of the crazy dream he just had. "Hello?" he answered a bit grouchily.

"Why didn't you answer when I first called? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine Jo," he replied more gently. "I was watching a movie and must have dozed off. What's up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for tonight. I guess I let my emotions get the best of me. It's just that I don't do well with change, and you gotta admit this is a real big change for both of us."

"That's why we're gonna take our time," Mac told her. "You're not starting to have any regrets, are you?" His stomach clenched in anticipation.

"No. What about you?"

MacGyver remembered his dream and smiled into the phone, "Absolutely not."


	32. A Challenger's Halloween

**A Challenger's Halloween**

The following day MacGyver pulled into the Challengers parking lot. After his strange dream and brief telephone conversation with Joanna the night before, he had slept more peacefully than he had in a while if he was to be honest with himself. It seemed incomprehensible how putting one particular ring on one particular finger could turn one's world upside down, at least momentarily.

As he climbed from the Nomad, a brisk October breeze tousled his hair. The temperatures were already colder than normal, most likely promising a long winter ahead. He entered the building to find Cynthia and some other volunteers snuggled into sweatshirts, coats, and even blankets.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"The furnace went out overnight," Cynthia told him.

"Have you called a repair man?"

"No. I was hoping you could take a look at it first and see if you could fix it."

"Yeah, sure," he responded before heading to the utility closet to grab some tools and descending the stairs to the basement where the silent monstrosity waited. It wasn't terribly old, but it was also far from being new.

MacGyver quickly unscrewed and removed the metal panel covering one side of the furnace to expose the inner workings of the machine. With the aid of a flashlight he assessed the damage.

"Well, can you fix it?" Cynthia asked. She had followed him downstairs and now peered over his shoulder.

Mac sighed. "See that?" he asked, aiming the beam of light on a black box. "The blower motor is shot and the capacitor probably is as well. Then over here," he moved the light again, "the tubing on the thermocouple is split. That automatically shut off the gas. I could manage a quick fix but it would only be temporary. There could also be other issues we can't see. I'd rather play it safe and call in a professional."

He turned to face Cynthia who looked crestfallen.

"Oh, MacGyver! When I was doing the books I never budgeted for any major emergencies. With the cut to our funding we barely have enough to cover the absolute necessities."

"My bonus from Phoenix should be coming through soon. Why don't we use that?"

"I've already earmarked that for next month's rent. It'd be like robbing Peter to pay Paul. There just isn't enough money to go around."

Mac put his hands firmly on the older woman's shoulders both to comfort and encourage.

"Look, we have time to come up with the rent. We need to get this furnace repaired now. We need to prioritize and use the money where it's most needed."

"Your right, MacGyver. I'm sorry I panicked."

"No need to apologize. We're in a tough situation right now. But in the meantime, could you go upstairs and grab me a roll of duct tape, a paper clip and some gum so I can fix this thing?"

Cynthia's jaw fell and it was all he could do to keep from laughing. A few seconds later she regained her composure...and caught him in the act.

"Oh, Mac!" she chuckled with a wave of her hand, "You're such a tease!"

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That afternoon Joanna pulled into Challengers to find a large panel van advertising heating and cooling repair parked in front of the building. She entered through the main doors, stopping at Rosie's reception desk.

"Hey, what's with the van out there?" Jo asked.

"The furnace broke last night," Rosie replied. "MacGyver patched it up until a repairman could get here." The woman's eyes strayed from Joanna's to Mac's office where he, Cynthia, and a man in stained overalls huddled around his desk. Joanna knocked lightly on the door before quickly joining them.

"Sorry to give you the bad news, ma'am," the repairman, whose name was Ted if the patch on his breast pocket was any indication, replied.

"Are you sure you just can't fix it?" Cynthia asked, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip.

"Well, I could. But you'd be calling me back in a month, if not sooner, to fix it again. You run a good place here and I don't want you to go throwing good money after bad. Like I already told ya, it's best to just get a brand new unit."

Mac and Cynthia breathed a collective sigh and Joanna understood why when she peeked over Ted's shoulder at the invoice. A new furnace would _not_ come cheap.

"Thanks for comin' out on such short notice," MacGyver thanked the repairman, shaking his hand. "We'll be in touch soon with our decision."

Ted turned and smiled at Joanna before walking out the door.

"Sounds like we got a problem," Jo said, stating the obvious but wanting to fill the uncomfortable silence.

MacGyver looked up, surprise in his eyes as if he was first now aware of her presence.

"Did you hear everything?" he asked.

"I heard enough," she answered flatly.

"So what are we going to do?" Cynthia inquired.

Mac scrubbed his face with his hands before responding. "I suppose we get a new furnace."

"But that's so expensive!" the older woman protested.

"Initially," MacGyver replied matter-of-factly. "But in the long run it'll save us money if Ted's right about the existing one needing repeated repairs."

Cynthia sent Joanna a pleading look.

"I'm afraid I have to side with Mac on this one," Jo said. "It just makes sense."

"But where are we going to get that kind of money so quickly?" Cynthia bemoaned.

"What did you do back in L.A. when you needed extra money?" Joanna asked.

"Our biggest fundraiser of the year was always the Christmas pageant," Mac told her. "But that furnace may not last until tomorrow, much less December."

"Not to mention that it took a lot of time and preparation to put the pageant together," Cynthia added.

"Well, Halloween's coming up," Jo said thoughtfully. "Maybe we can do something less labor-intensive centered around that? It would also be a good way to keep the kids out of trouble on what can be a pretty crazy night."

"Like a costume party or something?" Mac ventured.

Joanna's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea! And I'm sure my friend will offer his DJ services like when we had the prom for Challengers Academy!"

"And we could get restaurants to donate food and soda," MacGyver added, warming to the idea.

"That's all well and good," Cynthia interrupted, "But how is this little party going to bring in the money we need? We can't exactly make the kids pay to attend."

"She's got a point," Mac observed, glancing between the two women.

Everyone fell silent as they struggled with this obstacle.

"What if we had all the members who want to come pre-register and we could just check their names off a list when they arrive. Everyone else from the community will have to pay a modest cover charge, and we can put out a fish bowl or something to collect additional donations. I'm sure parents would love a place for their kids to be able to celebrate in safety," Jo suggested.

"You know, something like that just might work," Cynthia agreed, pondering the idea.

XXXXX

Several days later Joanna entered MacGyver's apartment to find him decked out in hockey gear from head to toe.

"Well, what'd ya think?" he asked her.

"I thought we were going to have dinner together, but if you'd rather play hockey it's fine by me."

"Huh? No! This is my Halloween costume!"

Jo raked her glance over him. "For normal people that's a costume. For you it's your Sunday best."

Mac looked down at his uniform and frowned. "I guess I could always go as a cowboy," he muttered. Suddenly brightening, he grabbed a piece of cloth from the breakfast counter and tossed it at Joanna.

"What's this?" she asked, carefully examining the green piece of felt. It had four 'arms' and two bulging white eyes made from ping pong balls.

"It's a frog costume for Frog! Get it?!"

Joanna's brow wrinkled with concern and she reached out to touch MacGyver's forehead with the back of her hand.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he replied, pulling back from her touch. "Can't a guy get into the Halloween spirit?"

"Yeah, sure, I've just never seen you like this before."

Mac quickly closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Jo's waist. "Maybe I've never felt like this before," he countered softly as his lips gently met hers.

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Over the ensuing days, Challengers Club members and adult volunteers alike eagerly took over preparations for the Halloween costume party. Before MacGyver knew it, the event was upon them. He was in his bathroom, putting the finishing touches on his costume, when he heard Joanna enter.

"Mac, you ready to go?" she called.

"I'll be right down," he replied. He heard her groan and smiled, knowing she had seen Frog in his own little costume. He descended the stairs to find Jo crouched in front of the chubby little canine murmuring something about 'poor baby' and 'insufferable man'. He loudly cleared his throat to get her attention. Hearing him behind her, she quickly stood up and turned around to face him.

"Evening, Miss Joanna. You're lookin' mighty fine tonight," he drawled as he watched her scrutinize him from head to toe.

"Not exactly the Lone Ranger, are ya?" she observed, wrinkling her nose.

"Real cowboys in the Old West did _not_ dress like the Lone Ranger," he replied, refusing to accept her criticism.

Once again he watched her regard his scuffed boots, loose, worn pants, woolen barn coat and misshapen hat.

"I guess you have a point," she capitulated. "Do I look okay?"

Unbeknownst to her, Mac had been admiring her costume since he first walked in the room. The soft pink sweater, poodle skirt and saddle shoes made her look young and vulnerable and incredibly attractive. He reached out to pull her closer for a long kiss, but a strong hand on his chest halted his progress.

"You are _not_ kissing me until you get rid of that cockroach that crawled up and died on your lip!"

"You mean you don't like my mustache?" he asked, patting the fuzzy accessory to make sure it was still in place.

"I'll like it just fine as soon as you take it off and put it back from wherever it came from," she replied curtly before grabbing Frog's leash and leading him out the front door.

"Then I guess a beard is out of the question?" Mac queried playfully as he followed.

XXXXX

By the time MacGyver and Joanna pulled into Challengers, the party was already in full swing. Frog the frog scampered to his corner where he held court, eating up attention as if it was candy...or fried chicken livers. Mac made his way through the recreation room greeting excited friends and neighbors. He was pleased that Jo chose to remain at his side instead of going off on her own. It felt good to be part of a couple...a permanent couple. The older teens ignored them as they either danced to the DJ or huddled in conversation near a table laden with food while the younger kids were busy playing games or visiting trick-or-treat stations set up throughout the club. MacGyver couldn't help but smile when he saw everyone enjoying themselves. He was just about to pull Joanna into his arms for a slow tempo dance when a loud but familiar voice rang out above the crowd.

"MacGyver! Joanna!" The pair turned to see Geena, the receptionist from the law firm, standing on tiptoe waving to them.

Jo immediately rushed toward the older woman and was soon enveloped in a warm embrace. By the time Mac approached, Geena was holding Joanna's left hand up to her face, squinting at her engagement ring.

"That's the best that man of yours could do?" she asked with a frown of disapproval.

"I happen to love it," Joanna said with a laugh. "Besides, it belonged to his grandmother and has a lot of sentimental value."

"Ahh, a family heirloom. You must treasure this ring for the rest of your life!" Geena eagerly instructed, now smiling approvingly.

"I plan to," Joanna promised.

After MacGyver greeted Geena, he noticed Lee and Wendi Vang standing off to the side, grinning widely. With Lee in a suit and Wendi still in her nursing scrubs, it appeared the two had come directly from work.

"So what brings you all to this side of town?" Mac asked after the appropriate pleasantries were exchanged.

"We've been meaning to come check out the club for ages," Lee said, speaking for the two women as well. "We heard about the costume party and decided it was a great opportunity to not only catch up with you two and congratulate you on your engagement in person but also do some good as well."

"Thanks! We appreciate that," Mac replied.

"We also have some news of our own we wanted to share," Lee added.

MacGyver's eyebrows raised in surprise and he noticed Joanna's did the same. "Let's go in my office where we can hear ourselves think," he invited.

"So what's the news?" Jo asked as soon as they were settled behind closed doors. She couldn't help but glance at Wendi's abdomen and speculate.

"It's not what you're thinking, Joanna," the trauma nurse said with a knowing grin, causing her friend to blush. "It really doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Of course it does!" Lee admonished. "This was a decision we made together!"

"Excuse me, kids," MacGyver interrupted, "But would you mind sharing with the rest of the class?"

"I'm sorry, Mac," Lee apologized. "The big news is that I've decided to start my own law practice. I have a couple other attorneys on board and we plan to open the first of the year."

"And I'm retiring from the firm to work part time as their secretary," Geena added. "That will also give me time to volunteer here at Challengers."

"That's great, Lee," MacGyver said, even as he smiled at Geena. "It's a big step. What made you decide to do it?"

"It was actually a number of things," Lee shrugged. "I finally realized there's little room for advancement at the firm. With my lack of seniority, I wouldn't make partner until I was ninety! I also liked the idea of being my own boss. But most importantly, I want to give back and help out the people who need my services the most. I'm tired of defending the rich and stomping on the poor. Working with you and Challengers helped me see that."

"Glad to be of service!" Mac teased. "What kind of law will you specialize in?"

"That's one of the best parts!" the attorney responded excitedly. "I'm making a concerted effort to bring a variety of lawyers on board so we can deal with criminal, family, even real estate law. And I leased a building not far from here so we'll be easily accessible to the community. And don't worry, we'll still be available for pro bono cases. Especially yours!"

Everyone laughed until there was a loud knock and Cynthia poked her head in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt, but a television news crew is outside and wants to interview MacGyver!"

"What?!" Mac felt his face fall. He neither sought nor craved publicity or attention. He much preferred to work behind the scenes, fly under the radar.

"They're doing stories on places that are providing safe Halloween alternatives to trick-or-treating," Cynthia clarified.

"It'd be great exposure for Challengers, Mac," Joanna said softly behind him.

He turned, grabbed her wrist, and gave her a gentle tug. "If I'm gonna talk to the press, you're comin' with me."

The interview was brief, and much less painful than MacGyver had anticipated. The reporter seemingly more interesting in showcasing the various activities and speaking with the participants.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Jo soothed, patting his shoulder and trying unsuccessfully to smother a smirk.

"You're right," he agreed. "I just have one question...should I have taken off my mustache?"

The following morning MacGyver and Cynthia huddled around his desk, counting the proceeds from the night before.

"We made just enough to cover the cost of a new heating unit," Cynthia declared.

Mac sighed, leaned back in his chair, and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"I don't know how you and Booker managed to keep Challengers afloat all those years," he said wearily.

"We found a way, MacGyver. We always found a way. And you will too. Just have some faith!" She reached over and patted his hand in a motherly fashion, pulling away when the phone rang.

"Challengers Club," Mac answered.

Hearing the mayor's voice on the other end caused him to straighten his posture and school his voice to sound calm and professional. In control. He noticed Cynthia slip from the room but immediately turned his attention back to the caller. A few minutes later he hung up and went in search of Cynthia, fully aware of the silly grin on his face.

"MacGyver, what is it? Who was on the phone?" she asked as he wandered into her office.

"You're not gonna believe this," he replied, shaking his head as if trying to believe it himself. "That was the mayor. He and some members of the city council saw the blurb about us on the news last night and when they heard we were having financial trouble they called an emergency meeting and voted unanimously to help fund the club. There's still a lot of red tape to cut through, and it will take some time, but with the amount he quoted, it will more than cover what we lost from Phoenix."

Mac was smiling widely now. "That means we can actually start to move forward. Buy new things. Implement new programs."

"Oh MacGyver, that's wonderful!" Cynthia exclaimed as she got up to wrap him in a congratulatory hug. "See, I told you everything would work out!"


	33. MacGyverland (Part One)

**MacGyverland (Part 1)**

Frog pawed at the glass patio door, causing the vertical blinds to clank. Joanna, comfortably ensconced in a cozy armchair, looked up from her knitting, her gaze moving from the softly whining bull dog to the fiancé sprawled on the couch, video game controller in hand and attention riveted on the television screen where animated hockey players toddled back and forth, shooting the puck at his command.

"Your dog needs to go out," she announced flatly.

"He's soon-to-be _our_ dog, and I'm one goal away from advancing to the Stanley Cup Finals," MacGyver muttered, fingers adeptly maneuvering two mini joysticks.

"Fine," Jo huffed, tossing her knitting on the floor and pushing herself up from the chair to tend to their beloved canine.

"You know you're addicted to that game," she observed after snapping on Frog's leash and sliding the door open just enough for him to scooch through.

"I am not!" Mac protested. "I can stop anytime I want."

"That's what they all say!" she shot back with a snort she knew he found both endearing when directed at others, but annoying when directed at him.

"Hey! Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," he challenged as she watched Frog sniff the perimeter of the yard before settling on a spot to do his business.

"Alright!" she challenged, after letting their dog back in the house. Before MacGyver could stop her, she walked over to the gaming console and hit the reset button.

"What'd ya do that for?!" Mac cried as the screen went blank. "I was in the middle of a game!"

"You had two seconds left and the other team was on a power play. You weren't gonna win. Besides, you said I should play."

Having caught Mac by surprise, she swiftly grabbed the controller from his hands, but he recovered quickly and caught her around the waist, pulling her down on the couch with him only to tease the side of her neck with feather-light kisses.

"Are you trying to distract me?" she accused with a soft laugh.

"You bet."

"Well, it's not gonna work," she replied with more resolve than she felt. His frustrated sigh sent a tingle trickling down her spine and she secretly relished the power she held over this amazing man.

"Now come on," she urged, sitting up straighter. "Show me how this works."

Joanna lost track of time as MacGyver showed her how to use the controller to move the animated figures. Her fingers were clumsy and she frowned in frustration when she missed a perfectly set up shot on goal.

"I hate this game," she mumbled.

"Hang in there," Mac encouraged. "It's all about timing and eye-hand coordination. Kinda like your knitting. You just need some practice."

She pulled a face at him but immediately reset the game to try again. She had just found a new obstacle to conquer, and conquer she would. Then she could challenge Mac to a game. Deep in concentration as she struggled to make the little animated men follow her commands, she almost didn't hear the telephone ring. She felt Mac's weight shift as he pushed himself off the couch. Her eyes never left the screen, but her ears couldn't help overhearing his end of the conversation.

"Hello? Hey Craig! What's up?"

There was only one 'Craig' that she was aware of in MacGyver's life and that was Craig Bannister from the Phoenix Foundation. Had he called to try to convince Mac to go on another mission? Not that it should matter to her. She and Mac had already talked about this and agreed that he would still help out his friends when he could and surely they wouldn't send a freelancer, which Mac now was, out on anything dangerous. Nevertheless, she forgot about the video game and focused her attention on the phone call.

MacGyver was silent for several minutes before countering. "But tests like that can't replicate what an agent will encounter in the field!"

More silence. Then, "Yeah, I know. Do you need me to come out there? Yeah, sure, I can do that. Okay, bye."

"What did _he_ want?" Joanna asked as soon as Mac hung up the phone. She was ashamed at the displeasure in her voice.

MacGyver sighed and scrubbed his face as he sat down next to her, leaning forward with his arms resting on his thighs.

"Phoenix wants to shut down MacGyverland."

"They want to shut down what?!" Jo was completely stupefied.

"It's a nickname my former colleagues made up for an obstacle course I created that's part of the field agent recertification process. Some members of the board think it's dangerous, obsolete, and a waste of the agents' time."

"Is it?"

"It does take agents up for re-cert out of circulation for three days. Plus, Craig said the course hasn't been properly maintained due to lack of funds and several people have gotten hurt which causes them to be out of work even longer. As for it being obsolete, Craig said the board members argued that with technological advances in surveillance, intel, and remote operations, agents don't require the skills the course tests, at least not like they used to."

"And what do _you_ think?"

"I created the course not only to test physical strength, but also manual dexterity, mental focus, reflexes, strategic planning, and basic wilderness survival skills. That can't be measured by putting someone on a treadmill or practicing in a shooting gallery. The board is going to meet in a week to officially vote on the status. They'll be hearing arguments beforehand and Craig wants me to share my thoughts."

"You'll be going to L.A. then?" Jo didn't like the way her mouth became dry upon asking that question. She loved this man. She didn't own him.

MacGyver shook his head. "I'll go to the Chicago office and participate in a video conference call, but according to Bannister it's pretty much a waste of time unless I can come up with some alternative between now and then."

Joanna watched as Mac's gaze tore from hers to the video game. She could practically see the gears in his brain turning.

"Mac? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I have a lot of research to do."

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The following day MacGyver shuttered himself in his office at Challengers. With funding woes behind them, he could focus on the task at hand which, for the present, was finding alternative recertification activities for Phoenix field agents. He knew Joanna wasn't thrilled that he had agreed to it, but they had a deal and, to her credit, she hid her dissatisfaction well. Besides, when he had proposed to her, he never in a million years could have predicted he would ever work for Phoenix again. And this really wasn't _work._ He was just a concerned former employee trying to help out. Mac booted up his computer and typed his question into the subject line of the search engine. Before long, he was sifting through numerous reports and studies to make sure his plan was viable and to serve as evidence for the Phoenix Board of Directors.

A few days later MacGyver entered his apartment to find Joanna sitting on his couch, completely engrossed in the video hockey game she was playing just like every other night since he introduced her to the pastime. He moved closer and marveled at how her delicate fingers now expertly maneuvered the joysticks and hit the buttons with near-perfect dexterity. Either she hadn't heard him walk in or she was ignoring him because her concentration hadn't flinched.

"She shoots, she scores, and the crowd goes wild!" Jo crowed exuberantly, raising her hands in the air to further celebrate her victory.

Mac couldn't help chuckling. "Now who's addicted?" he asked with mock sarcasm.

Joanna rose from the couch, pulled herself up to her full height, and approached him, not stopping until her face was mere inches from his.

"I'll have you know I can quit anytime I want, mister. Besides, _I_ just won the Stanley Cup."

Grabbing her upper arms, he pulled her to him, giving her a hard, quick kiss.

"Congratulations."

She pulled away with a frown.

"What?" he asked.

"Mac, I just won the _Stanley Cup_!"

"Well excuse me!" he replied with a sly grin. This time when he reached for her, his touch was gentle. He drew her into his arms and lowered his lips to hers, their long, deep kiss making his heart pound in a way no hockey game ever could.

"Better?" he asked in a husky voice as he reluctantly stepped back.

"Much," she confirmed softly, her eyes still a bit unfocused. "I've missed you."

"Me too," he replied. "But I think I've finally got a solution. Come over here and let me show you."

MacGyver took Joanna's hand and led her over to his computer. He quickly popped in a disc and the monitor came to life with colorful game pieces on an electronic board.

"Mac, this is a video game," Jo observed skeptically.

"You could call it that," he shrugged.

"Are you out of your mind?! You can't possibly plan on telling Phoenix that agent recertification will be based on how well they play a video game!"

"Now just hold on and let me show you how it works." MacGyver pulled up an extra chair, reached for the mouse, and began clicking its buttons.

"This _game_ is all about strategy. You have to match same-colored pieces to clear the board in a certain amount of time. In order to do that, you have to recognize one of three different patterns."

"I guess I can see the theory in that," Joanna said uncertainly.

Mac allowed himself a small smile, typed in a command, and soon the screen turned into a picture of a meadow. A woolly animated sheep darted across the green space from the left side of the monitor. MacGyver immediately clicked a mouse button and the animal was 'shot' with a tranquilizer dart.

"This one is designed to test your reflexes," he explained.

"That looks like fun! Let me try." Joanna unceremoniously shoved him out of the way as she scooted her own chair closer to the computer. Several sheep made their way across the screen before she successfully shot one in the nick of time. The computer displayed her score and she frowned. "I don't think I like this game either," she frowned, backing away.

MacGyver smothered a smile, secretly enjoying the competitiveness she tried to keep locked away. "It takes practice," he reassured her.

"Okay, what else you got?" Apparently she was warming to the idea the way he hoped the board members would.

"The final exercise is designed to test manual dexterity. I figured we could use-"

"The hockey game!" Jo cut him off excitedly.

"Yeah," he laughed.

"And all these games, um, _programs,_ require a good deal of mental focus," she observed. "But what about the survival aspect of it?"

Mac shrugged. "The initial training program covers that and if agents keep their other skills sharp it shouldn't be a problem."

"Well, I'm sold. But how are you going to get Phoenix to agree to use this as an alternative strategy?"

"That's where these come in," MacGyver said, pulling large packets of papers from his satchel.

"What are those?"

"These are reports of studies that examined the success rate of using _creative_ training methods."

"I think I read about one of those," Joanna responded, her brow furrowed in thought. "It had to do with basketball players, if I remember correctly. One practiced free throws like usual while the other simply used that same amount of time to visualize himself successfully making the free throws. I forgot what the exact outcome was, but the guy who did the visualization performed just as well if not better than the guy who physically practiced."

"Exactly!" Mac exclaimed, glad that Jo understood his point. "These reports prove that skills can transfer from one environment to another."

"Think that'll be enough proof for the foundation?"

"I sure hope so."

XXXXX

MacGyver inhaled a long, deep breath through his nose and slowly exhaled through his mouth, willing his heart rate to slow as he followed a cheerful receptionist through the corridors of the Phoenix Foundation office building in Chicago. With each footstep he silently chided himself. How many times throughout his career had he stood in front of influential boards or committees, presenting research, data, and various courses of action? Of course, he had always had the full support of Phoenix and, sometimes, even the United States Government. Today it was all on him. He would sink or swim alone. And that thought was kinda overwhelming. The receptionist stopped at the door to a small conference room and stepped aside with a smile, allowing Mac to enter. He quickly surveyed the empty room then grinned when his gaze fell upon a familiar figure seated in a corner.

"Pete! What are you doin' here?!" The older man rose at the sound of his friend's voice and soon the two men were embracing.

"Joanna called and filled me in on your situation. Thought you could use some moral support. She also seems to think I may still have some pull with the board members."

"Do you?"

"Let's hope we don't have to find out."

Before Mac could reply, he heard the two way speaker on the table click on and looked up to the television mounted on the wall to see it flicker to life as a number of middle-aged men in suits somberly gathered around a conference table in Los Angeles. MacGyver followed their lead and situated himself in a chair facing the screen so he could see and be seen. Once brief introductions and generic greetings were exchanged, the spokesman of the group addressed him.

"Contrary to our original plan and in light of the new proposal you sent us earlier in the week, the board has already voted unanimously to immediately terminate any and all use of the recertification obstacle course known as MacGyverland."

Mac kept his face expressionless, nodding slightly to show he understood. He would not let them see his disappointment. Would not let them see any chinks in his armor.

"Now then," the spokesman continued, "after studying your alternate method for recertification, several of our members found it quite _interesting_ , including myself, and we'd like to take advantage of your presence to provide further information."

For the next thirty minutes, MacGyver answered questions, expounded explanations, and referred to successful research studies as often as possible. When the board seemed satisfied, the spokesman once again addressed Mac.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. MacGyver. The board would like a few moments in private to discuss what we've learned here today." With that, the speaker clicked off and the television screen went blank.

Mac let out a long sigh, slumped back in his chair, and turned to Pete.

"How do you think it went?" he asked the older man.

"It all sounded good to me, but then I'm not the one you have to convince."

Moments later the Los Angeles office reconnected, the spokesman's figure filling the monitor.

"After a brief discussion and vote, the board members have agreed to use your prototype recertification method on a trial basis."

"Thank you, sir," Mac responded evenly, keeping his emotions in check.

"What's the first step in your process, Mr. MacGyver?"

"I need to come out to L.A. and install the computer program on the foundation's mainframe and provide some overview for the field supervisors. It should only take a day or so."

"Excellent. Can you be here tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

The connection was once again severed and MacGyver stood alone in the room with Pete, his mind reeling. He couldn't believe Phoenix had accepted his proposal.

That evening MacGyver called Joanna as soon as he arrived home to let her know how the meeting had gone.

"They actually liked my ideas and want to give the program a test run."

"Mac, that's great!" she exclaimed, pride obvious in her voice.

"Yeah. There's just one thing."

"What's that?" Pride turned quickly to suspicion.

"They want me out in L.A. tomorrow to install it."

"Wow, they don't waste any time," she observed.

"You got that right. I plan on catching the first flight out in the morning and should be back sometime tomorrow night."

"The last time you said that they sent you on a mission that nearly got you killed."

"I promise that won't happen again," Mac assured her.

"Oh really?"

Mac sighed. "I promise I will not accept any other job except working on the recertification project. I'll be in Los Angeles the whole time. Heck, I'll probably be in the same _building_ the whole time. You can call me every hour if you like."

Joanna chuckled. "As much as I love the sound of your voice, I doubt that will be necessary."

"You like the sound of my voice?" Mac teased.

"Among other things," came the vague reply in a saucy tone that made him smile.

XXXXX

The following morning MacGyver entered the multi-story building that housed the main branch of the Phoenix Foundation in Southern California. He quickly obtained a visitor's badge from a security officer who proceeded to escort him to one of several computer labs. Mac spent the next few hours working with technicians to load his program into the foundation's main computer, work out any glitches, and set up agent-specific passwords. This way, any field agent could access and practice the skills for recertification from any personal computer in the facility.

After a short lunch break, MacGyver spent the afternoon meeting with field supervisors to explain the new re-cert process as well as demonstrate the programs and set acceptable parameters for success or failure of the actual test. After a brief question and answer session to end the day, the supervisors filed out of the room with Craig Bannister bringing up the rear.

"Well done, my friend," he said, shaking Mac's hand.

"Thanks, but this is just a trial run. The board could still decide to go in a different direction."

"Why don't we think positive for the time being? In fact, I want to introduce you to your first guinea pig."

Craig Bannister led MacGyver through the winding corridors before stopping to knock on a door. A man of average size and looks answered.

"Mac, this is Agent Tom Duncan. He's up for recertification as soon as he gets back from an assignment in a couple weeks. Tom, this is MacGyver, the man behind the new re-cert program. You need to make him look good!"

"I'll do my best, sir," Duncan replied, shaking hands with Mac and exchanging small talk before returning to work.

"Wanna grab some supper with an old pal?"

"What about Nikki?" Mac asked.

"She's out of the country on assignment."

"And you don't like to eat alone, is that it?"

Craig held out his hands in a helpless gesture. "What can I say, you found me out! How about we go to that little Indian restaurant you used to like so much?"

MacGyver was about to agree when he glanced down at his watch and realized it was later than he thought.

"What's the matter? Gotta clear it with the little woman?"

"No," Mac replied scornfully before looking around the room. "Where's the phone?"

Three hours later MacGyver glanced at his watch again and frowned.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Craig asked.

"I really lost track of the time. I'm sorry, but I gotta get to the airport." He hoped there was at least one more flight back to Milwaukee that night.

"Joanna sure has got you on a short leash," Bannister smirked.

"It's not like that," Mac protested. "Maybe I just want to sleep in my own bed. I'm no longer at Phoenix's beck and call like someone else at this table."

"Alright, you got me there," Craig conceded as Mac grabbed his jacket and left the restaurant.

When MacGyver pulled into his driveway, he felt a stab of disappointment when he saw the darkened windows but he quickly chided himself. He couldn't expect Jo to wait up for him every time he stayed out later than expected. Heck, he couldn't even expect her to hang out at his place when he was away. She did have a home of her own. Nevertheless, he made a point of unlocking the front door as quietly as possible, his heart taking one last nose-dive as he noticed the only occupant on his couch was Frog. Tossing his jacket on the kitchen counter he trudged up the stairs. A soft snore coming from a lump in his bed caused his pulse to skip. Even as the practical part of his brain urged him to allow her some privacy, the ache in his heart needed to hold her near. It wasn't like anything was going to happen between them, he reasoned. She was asleep and he was too tired to do anything about it anyway. Fully clothed, he slipped underneath the covers, her back to him, and gently placed his arm around her waist so as not to wake her but still feel her presence. His heart warmed when she let go a sleep-filled sigh and automatically nestled into his chest.

Mac was in the kitchen making breakfast the following morning when he heard Joanna pad down the stairs.

"I hope I didn't wake you," he said, not turning around.

"You didn't," she replied succinctly. "When did you get home?"

"Late."

"You must have slept on the couch, huh?"

"Must have."

He felt her arms snake around his midsection and give a possessive squeeze.

"You are such a lousy liar," she informed him with a giggle. "But I guess that's a good quality to have in a husband. You won't get away with a thing!"

"Oh yeah?" he asked, turning so he could embrace her. "And just what were you doin' in my bed, Goldilocks?"

"Things got a little rowdy at Challengers last night and Frog seemed anxious. I thought he'd be better off here."

Mac's stomach sank. "What do you mean by 'rowdy'?"

"Nothing Cynthia, Geena and I couldn't handle, but you know how Frog hates to sleep here alone."

"So you thought you'd keep him company." Before Jo could respond, he lowered his mouth to hers and relished the precious moments when it seemed she melted into him.

All too soon her back stiffened, muscles tensed, and she stepped away, albeit with a smile.

"So how did things go in L.A.?"

"Fine. It all came together pretty smoothly. I even got to meet the guy who's gonna be the first agent to use the program."

"What happens next?"

Mac shrugged. "I suppose Phoenix decides if they're gonna stay with what I designed or go back to the drawing board."

"Will you have to go out there again?"

"I'm not planning on it. Everything I need is right here." He reached out for her, but she deftly out-maneuvered him.

"Don't forget, Mom's expecting you for Thanksgiving next week," she reminded him seriously.

"I wouldn't miss it. Does she want me to bring anything?"

"Nope. For one day out of the year you're gonna eat like a normal person!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

MacGyver, Joanna, and her parents gathered around the Fairfax's small kitchen table, a giant roast turkey taking center stage. They all joined hands and bowed their heads as Joanna's mom said the blessing. Jo couldn't help taking a quick peek at Mac, seated across from her, only to find him doing the same, an endearingly crooked smile on his face. Her stomach twinged, but not from hunger. She was extra grateful this Thanksgiving to have this wonderful man in her life and to know that they would be together for the rest of their lives.

Halfway through the scrumptious meal the telephone rang. It was rare to receive a call on a holiday. Joanna quickly got up and answered before the machine picked.

"Hello?"

"Joanna? It's Pete. Is Mac with you?"

Jo wanted to scold the older man for not bothering to wish her a happy Thanksgiving, but his tone was tense and clipped indicating this was not a social call.

"Yeah. Hold on a minute."

"Mac, Pete's on the phone for you," she replied soberly, returning to her seat at the table.

She could hear the rumble of MacGyver's muted voice coming from the other room but couldn't make out any specific words. When he returned to the kitchen, his face was somber, his eyes empty.

"Everything okay?" she asked, knowing his answer already.

"Yeah, fine," he replied.

The meal was completed in uneasy conversation, Mac's troubled mood permeating the air. When he turned down a slice of pumpkin pie, Jo knew something was definitely wrong. A few minutes later, Judy Fairfax shooed the younger couple from her kitchen so she could clean up and put away the leftovers. A stern look kept her husband by her side.

"Wanna tell me about it?" she asked, hurrying to keep pace with MacGyver who was striding purposefully toward the living room.

"Not really," came the flat reply.

She reached out and grabbed his forearm. "Tell me anyway."

Mac finally turned toward her, a storm like she'd never seen before brewing in his troubled eyes.

"A Phoenix agent is dead and it could all be my fault." Without another word, he shrugged on his jacket and headed out the front door.


	34. MacGyverland (Part Two)

**MacGyverland (Part 2)**

MacGyver was halfway across the front lawn when he heard Joanna call to him from behind.

"Hey! You can't do that!" she yelled.

He stopped and turned. "Do what?" he asked flatly.

"Tell me you got an agent killed and then just walk out."

"I don't wanna talk about it," he replied before turning to walk away...again.

"Is it classified?" she asked, now keeping pace at his elbow.

"Not yet," he mumbled.

"Then please tell me about it while you still can."

MacGyver stopped in his tracks and looked at her. He should shut down this whole conversation right now. Then he remembered what Pete had said about how lack of communication ruined his first marriage to Connie and told Mac not to make the same mistake he had.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "A veteran field operative was tasked with handing over a microchip containing top secret information to a U.S. representative in an undisclosed foreign country. Instead, it appears he set up a rendezvous with an enemy of the state, gave him the chip, and then was killed with his own gun."

"He killed himself?"

"The authorities are working to determine whether it was suicide or just made to look that way."

"But what does all this have to do with you?" Joanna asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"The operative was the same agent that had started training for recertification using the new program. A routine cyber security check found that his computer, which held highly classified information about this particular assignment, had been compromised. It's entirely possible the enemy hacked in through the program I designed." He sighed again. "I should have been more careful, put more security measures in place."

"You don't know that for sure," Jo countered. "And I don't get why any agent would apparently hand over highly sensitive information to a known enemy."

"I know," MacGyver agreed, shaking his head. "None of this makes any sense."

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

"What _can_ I do? I'm no longer a Phoenix employee, remember?"

"That hasn't stopped you from working with them before," she said drily. "Besides, you owe it to yourself and the agent to get to the bottom of this. At least the part about the computer."

Mac's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me to go to Los Angeles and insert myself into the investigation?"

"That _is_ what you want to do, right?" she asked with a sly smile. "Besides, there's no school until Monday so I can take your place at Challengers."

"You are the absolute best, you know that?" he praised just before cupping her face in his large hands and giving her a firm, quick kiss.

XXXXX

MacGyver stared down at the Visitor's Pass the security guard at Phoenix handed him and curled his lip.

"A tough thing to get used to, huh?" the younger man asked with a smirk.

"Yeah. Kinda makes me feel like a second class citizen around here," Mac responded flatly.

"You? No way! You're a legend within these hallowed halls!" the guard exclaimed as he led MacGyver to the elevator and pressed the button.

"A legend?" Mac's innate modesty scoffed at the idea, but his all-American male ego swelled just a bit.

"You bet! You're the best field operative Phoenix ever had. Every agent wants to be like you."

The kid was going overboard now and MacGyver couldn't help but laugh. "Is that part of the new HR pitch they give you when you get hired now?"

"Hey man, I'm serious! You're still a big deal around here."

Uncomfortable with his newly discovered fame, Mac was relieved when the guard deposited him in Craig Bannister's office and took his leave.

"I don't suppose I need to ask what you're doin' here," the Director of Foreign Operations said after friendly greetings were exchanged.

"I want in on the investigation, Craig."

"That's not up to me, Mac."

"But I thought you were spearheading it."

Craig chuckled. "That's above my pay grade, pal. They're just letting me sniff around because Duncan was one of my men."

"Who do I need to talk to, then?"

Bannister eyed MacGyver carefully. "You sure you want to get yourself caught up in this?"

"Listen, Craig. I know that his computer was hacked and it could be because of my re-cert program. I need to do this."

"Fine," Bannister sighed. "I'll get you on board. Do you have a place to stay? This could take some time."

"Yeah, I know. I was plannin' on lookin' up an old buddy and bunkin' with him."

"Sounds good. You go get settled in and we'll hit the ground runnin' in the morning."

Late that afternoon MacGyver parked his nondescript rental car in front of the Hacienda Village Apartments. A tall, wrought iron fence and sturdy gate separated the courtyard and sprawling, four-story Mediterranean style building from the outside world. It looked like a respectable place in a respectable neighborhood. Mac couldn't help glancing at the address he had scribbled on a piece of paper while talking to Jack. Yep. The address matched. MacGyver walked to the gate and pressed the button on the panel next to Jack Dalton's name.

"Hark! Who goes there?!" a gruff voice asked through the speaker.

"It's me. Mac."

"Hey buddy!" Jack greeted in his normal voice. "I'll be right down."

MacGyver leisurely surveyed his surroundings while he waited for his friend who soon appeared on the other side of the fence, opening the gate to allow MacGyver into the courtyard.

"Nice place you got here. Guess the air limo service is really taking often."

"Good pun, Kemosabe!" the pilot chortled. "But seriously, I should have taken your advice sooner and got an honest job. I mean, just look at this place! And I don't have to worry about getting involved with, how shall I say, less than savory businessmen."

"You mean you've finally decided to settle down and stop looking for that one last great adventure?" Mac asked incredulously.

"You bet!" Jack replied, just as MacGyver turned to see his friend's left eye twitch. "Well, at least for the foreseeable future. Oh, by the way, I got you your own key," Jack said, digging into the pocket of his bomber jacket.

"You got some pull with the manager?" Mac asked. His question was answered as a tall, blonde female crossed in front of them, waggling her fingers towards Jack. "Let me guess, that's the manager."

"You got it, amigo," Jack confirmed, waggling his fingers in return.

"Sorry I don't have an extra bedroom," Jack apologized as Mac dropped his duffel next to the couch.

"No problem. I probably won't be spending much time here anyway. Mind if I use the phone?"

"Help yourself!"

MacGyver started to dial when his friend interrupted.

"Um, it's not long distance, is it?"

Mac stopped and glared at his temporary roommate. "Is that a problem?"

"No. I mean, it's just that I'm on a limited plan," Jack sputtered.

"I'll pay you back," MacGyver muttered.

"I hope you gave Joanna my love," Jack said when Mac hung up.

"How can you be so sure I was talkin' to _her_?"

"Give it up, Mac. You can't hide your feelings from ole Uncle Jack! I saw you get all googly-eyed as soon as you started talking."

"She's fine. And I did _not_ get 'googly-eyed'!"

Jack held up his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, compadre! Whatever you say! So, you gonna tell me why you're back working for Phoenix?"

"I'm not working for them. I'm just helping out." MacGyver chanced a glance at his friend who eagerly awaited more information. "There was an incidence. I can't say anything more. It's-"

"Classified," Jack frowned. "Why is all the good stuff always 'classified'?"

"Jack, an agent died! I wouldn't exactly call that 'good stuff'!" Mac snapped.

"Oh. That's too bad, Mac. Really." Jack paused and the air hung heavy between them. "So, how'd he die?"

MacGyver glared at his friend.

"Right. It's classified."

XXXXX

Early Saturday morning MacGyver walked into the Phoenix office building and picked up his pass from the weekend security guard. He smiled to himself when he saw that Bannister had arranged a Civilian Consultant badge for him. Less than twenty-four hours in the city and he was already climbing the ranks. He was headed for Craig's office when he met the man in the hallway.

"As of thirty minutes ago this investigation is officially classified," Bannister said in place of a friendly greeting. "From here on in, all information is strictly on a need-to-know basis."

"Got it," Mac acknowledged, falling into step beside his friend. He was silently relieved to know he hadn't really lied to Jack. Just misled him prematurely. Oh great, now he was starting to think like Jack! MacGyver shook his head to reorder his thoughts. "So where are we headed?"

"The computer lab. There's someone I want you to meet. Oh, and Mac…" Bannister put a hand on his arm to halt their progress. "I just got the medical examiner's official cause of death on Duncan. The gunshot wound was self-inflicted."

MacGyver shook his head sadly. "We'll get to the bottom of this. We have to."

Moments later the electronic doors to one of the computer labs slid open and Mac and Bannister entered. Several technicians, all wearing white lab coats, worked silently on consoles stationed throughout the room. Craig led them to a young Asian man on the other side of the lab.

"Jimmy Choo, I'd like you to meet MacGyver. MacGyver, this is Jimmy Choo, Phoenix's number one computer tech. You'll be working together on the hacking issue."

"It's nice to finally meet you in person. I've heard a lot about you," Jimmy said as he shook Mac's hand.

"Let me guess, the 'hallowed halls' speak?"

"No," Bannister chuckled, "not this time. You might remember Jimmy's dad, James Choo. He was a foreign operative back in your day."

"Of course," Mac replied. "I knew that name sounded familiar. What's your dad up to these days?"

"He's retired, sir."

"Call me Mac. Tell your dad I said hello. We never worked any assignments together, but I heard he was a heck of an agent."

"Yes, he was," the younger Choo confirmed. A slight hitch in his voice caught MacGyver's attention, but he decided not to question it. At least not yet.

"So, what've you got so far?" Bannister asked Jimmy, quickly turning the conversation back to business.

The young man sighed. "It was definitely a professional job. The mainframe was hacked externally, not from a Phoenix terminal, so we know it's not an inside job."

"Not necessarily," MacGyver interrupted. "Over half the population owns a computer or has access to one so everyone, even Foundation employees, are still under suspicion."

"Of course, I hadn't thought of that," Choo replied apologetically.

Craig raked his fingers through his hair in both anger and frustration. "We're supposed to have a state-of-the-art security system throughout the building! How could something like this happen? Did Mac's program compromise it?"

Choo shook his head. "Nope. The dude who did this was really good. He would've gotten in no matter what."

"Did you find anything else?" Mac asked, leaning over Jimmy's shoulder staring at the rows of numbers and letters on his computer monitor.

"It appears that once the hacker gained access, he honed in on Duncan's terminal and wrote a program to piggy-back on the recertification program MacGyver created."

"What kind of program?" Bannister asked anxiously.

"I don't know, sir. I'm trying to decode it right now but it's highly complex as well as encrypted. It's gonna take some time."

"Well, then I'll let you two get at it," Craig said, patting MacGyver on the shoulder.

"Uh, can I see you for a sec? Privately?" Mac asked, hoping he didn't sound as uncertain as he felt.

Once they made their way to an unoccupied corner, MacGyver turned to Bannister and lowered his voice.

"My computer skills are a little rusty. That stuff Jimmy was supposedly reading looked like gibberish to me. I think I'd be of better use in the field tracking down whoever Duncan gave the classified info to."

"I'm sorry, Mac. That's not my call."

"Then talk to somebody!"

Bannister's eyes hit the floor as he remained silent.

"Wait a minute," MacGyver began thoughtfully. "I got access to this assignment pretty easily. You made a deal with the board, didn't you?"

"I promised I'd keep you here at headquarters," Bannister confirmed.

"Aw man!"

"It's a liability thing, Mac! You're a civilian now. We can't send you traipsing into hostile foreign territory! You can either stay here and help out or catch the next flight home."

"Fine," Mac replied through a clenched jaw. "I'll stay and see what I can do. And don't worry...I'll stay out of trouble."

"Famous last words," Craig mumbled as he walked away, leaving Mac alone with the computer boy genius.

After two hours of watching Jimmy pound away furiously on his keyboard, MacGyver decided it was time for a break. Apparently Jimmy did, too, as he sat back in his chair and scrubbed his hands with his face.

"This is impossible!" the young man spat, frustration overflowing.

"Whoa, take it easy. You said yourself it was a complicated program. Cut yourself some slack," Mac advised.

"I've been working on this for three days," Jimmy countered. "I can decode most programs in a matter of hours. So much for being the number one computer tech at Phoenix!"

"Look, why don't we go grab something to eat and you can come back and look at it with fresh eyes?"

"That's it, MacGyver! You're a genius!"

"I am?"

"Yeah! I need a pair of fresh eyes! Will you take a look at it after lunch?"

Mac hesitated. "I'm not sure I'm the right man for the job, but I'll give it a shot."

When the two men returned from the cafeteria, MacGyver sat down at Choo's computer.

"I'm gonna try and see if I can find the hacker's location," Jimmy said as he booted up another machine.

For the rest of the afternoon, Mac sat staring at the monitor, trying to make sense of the seemingly random rows of numbers and letters. He dug into his memory and ran as many decoding programs as he could remember, fondly recalling his own computer hacking days...all done in the name of research, of course. His eyes were burning and his back was aching and he was ready to call it a day when a small sequence at the bottom of the screen suddenly looked familiar. With renewed energy, MacGyver continued his investigation.

"I think I got it," he announced to Jimmy thirty minutes later.

"You did? How? What is it?"

"Let me get Bannister down here first."

"We were overthinking this," Mac explained once Craig arrived and the three men were gathered around the console.

"What do you mean?" Jimmy asked.

"The encryption as well as the code is actually very basic."

"That can't be! I started with the most basic decoding programs I know," Jimmy protested.

"Exactly!" MacGyver exclaimed.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Bannister demanded.

"I used an old program, and I mean _really_ old, to decipher it. I doubt that most technicians these days are aware of it and, unless I miss my guess, the culprit was counting on that! It also means that whoever wrote this code is probably closer to my age than Jimmy's."

"Okay," Craig capitulated. "So what does it say?"

Mac turned to face his friend. "Remember back in the late fifties when movie theaters were accused of using subliminal messages in films to advertise popcorn and stuff?"

"Yeah, but I thought that was eventually debunked."

"Not totally. And from what I see, the hacker programed a subliminal message into my recertification program. At least the one accessed with Duncan's password."

"Go on," Craig urged.

"While Duncan was practicing for re-cert, three phrases were flashed on the screen, each for ten milliseconds, in a continuous loop."

"And what did these phrases say?" Bannister asked in a childish, sing-song voice that indicated he was growing frustrated with MacGyver's stall tactics.

"It's bad," Mac warned, his stomach churning. "The phrases were: 'Rendezvous with Ahmad', 'Hand over microchip', and 'Kill yourself with service weapon'."

"Oh my god," Craig muttered as the blood drained from his face. "Duncan was brainwashed."

"Is that even possible?" Jimmy asked, clearly not convinced.

"Given the evidence, I'd say it is," Mac replied.

"And since the coding used is basically outdated, we can assume it was probably done by someone close to our age, right MacGyver?" Craig deduced.

"Yeah. But that doesn't exactly narrow the suspect pool," Mac replied dejectedly.

XXXXX

That evening, per Nikki's invitation, Craig, MacGyver, and Jack gathered around her dining room table where she served up a scrumptious meal. However, Mac couldn't help noticing that she barely touched her food and the normally outgoing, opinionated agent barely contributed to the conversation. It was almost as if she didn't want them there, even though she had asked them to come. When the dishes had been cleared and she was in the kitchen making coffee, Mac decided to broach the subject.

"Hey Craig, is Nikki okay?" he asked in a low voice. "She doesn't seem to be acting like herself."

"It's this thing with Duncan," Bannister sighed. "She's taking it really hard."

"Did they work together much?"

"A couple times over the past few years, but you know how it is."

"Yeah," Mac nodded. He knew all too well that underneath her oft-prickly exterior, Nikki had a soft, vulnerable heart.

"Here we go!" Nikki said with what MacGyver knew was forced cheerfulness as she carried a tray of coffee cups into the dining room. When she set a delicate cup of the dark liquid in front of Mac, his first instinct was to push it away. Apparently she had forgotten he hated the stuff. But he stopped himself. Tonight, for Nikki, he would drink coffee. But before anyone could take a sip, Jack spoke up.

"Sorry Nikki, but I gotta get going. It's getting late and Mac's my ride."

Everyone glanced at their watch with Nikki being the first to speak.

"Jack, it's not even nine o'clock. Surely you can stay for just one cup," she protested.

"No can do, mon amie. I have an early flight booked and need to get some shut-eye. Can't be falling asleep at the controls of my fancy new plane, now."

"You didn't tell me anything about a flight," Mac countered.

"Oh, sorry. Must've slipped my mind," Jack apologized to his friend before turning to address the rest of the group. "This super-rich oil baron hired me to fly him to New York for three days. Wants to leave at first light. As a bonus, he's putting me up in a five-star hotel and covering all my meals and expenses to fly him back. So Mac, you'll have my place all to yourself. Don't go throwin' any wild parties or anything."

MacGyver pulled a face as the others laughed before exchanging good-byes.

When Mac awoke the next morning, the apartment was eerily silent. Jack had already left. Knowing his friend had never been an early riser, MacGyver couldn't help wondering if the pilot had really gone to sleep last night or just stayed up until time to leave. Mac mentally shrugged, rolled off the couch, stretched out his back muscles, grabbed a granola bar and headed out the door. Upon arriving at Phoenix, he headed straight to the computer lab.

"Find our hacker yet?" he asked Jimmy Choo who was already hard at work.

"No," the technician admitted. "But based on what we found out yesterday, I'm running an older tracking program in case he's using an older computer."

"Good man," Mac praised, clapping Jimmy on the shoulder before sitting down.

"Listen, Jimmy. I've been thinking about your dad. If I remember correctly he's a couple years younger than me. What made him decide to retire so early?"

"Why do you care?" Choo asked in a clipped tone.

"I don't know, I just do," Mac replied innocently.

Jimmy stared at the floor for so long MacGyver didn't think he was going to get an answer when suddenly the younger man pinned him with an empty gaze and began to speak.

"There's not a whole lot to tell. My dad was up for recertification and he wiped out in MacGyverland. Phoenix didn't want to let him go, so they offered him a job in computer program development. Not many people know that my dad was a whiz with technology. Taught me everything I know. Anyway, he turned down the job and retired instead. Said if he couldn't work in the field he didn't want to work at all."

"Aw man, that's tough," Mac acknowledged somberly. "But he must be proud of you, following in his footsteps and all. What's he up to these days anyways?"

"I gotta get back to work," Jimmy mumbled, ignoring the question and turning his attention back to the computer monitor.

Uneasiness in the pit of MacGyver's stomach grew as the afternoon progressed. He kept replaying the conversation with Jimmy in his head and didn't care for the conclusion it kept leading to. Before leaving for the day, he sought out Craig Bannister.

"Hey buddy, how's it going? Any new information on the hacker?"

Mac shoved his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. "I think I know who's behind this."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense! Who is it?"

"I think it's Jimmy's dad, James Choo."

Now it was Craig's turn to blow out a breath as he sank silently into his desk chair, a look of disbelief shrouding his eyes. "It can't be," he finally mumbled softly.

"I know. I don't want to believe it either. He was a great agent, but all the pieces fit. Think about it. He washed out on his recertification and felt railroaded into retirement. Not to mention he has the computer skills to pull this off. What better way to get what he sees as revenge on Phoenix for ending his career?"

"Mac, it's impossible," Bannister said sadly. "James Choo committed suicide two days after his retirement."

XXXXX

MacGyver flopped down on the couch. He had just gotten off the phone with Joanna. They both knew he couldn't talk about the investigation, but he was hoping some conversation about Challengers and simply hearing her voice would calm his mind. It hadn't. Who was behind the hacking and subliminal message sending? Theoretically, they were back to square one, yet Mac couldn't help feeling that the answer was closer than anyone dared to imagine. The phrase, 'Taught me everything I know', kept cycling through his brain. He was on the verge of dozing off when suddenly everything fell into place, like tumblers in combination lock. He was reaching for the phone to call Bannister when the buzzer on the wall sounded indicating that someone was at the courtyard gate. Frustrated that he had to delay his call, he got up and walked over to the intercom.

"Jack's not here," he said as he pressed the button.

"It's me, Mac. Nikki. I really need to talk to you," came the grainy reply.

The desperation in her voice caused MacGyver's pulse to beat double-time.

"I'll be right down," he said into the speaker.

Moments later he escorted Nikki into Jack's apartment. She was halfway across the living room before she turned, pointing a revolver at Mac's chest.

"Whoa, Nikki, what's goin' on here?" MacGyver asked, holding his hands up in surrender.

"You should've drank the coffee, Mac. It was poisoned. You would've come home, gone to sleep, and never woke up. Nice and clean and painless." Her cold, monotone voice was a stark contrast to the pools of tears forming in her eyes.

"C'mon Nikki. You don't wanna do this." His voice was calm and gentle.

She remained silent, the gun still aimed at his heart.

"If you really wanted me dead you would've shot me already. Put the gun down." His voice was firmer now.

"I can't. I have to kill you."

"Who said?"

"I have to kill you," she repeated mechanically.

"Okay. Then what? What are you gonna do after you kill me?"

"Kill MacGyver, kill yourself," she intoned.

"Nikki, you know you don't want to do this," Mac repeated.

"I have to." A tear slid down her cheek.

"Who told you that?" MacGyver gentled his voice once again.

The woman's brow furrowed slightly as her finger began to put pressure on the trigger.

Mac could feel beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead.

"You don't have to kill me and you don't have to kill yourself. You don't have to listen to them, you have a choice."

Nikki stayed silent, but MacGyver noticed her hold on the weapon waiver just a bit. His first instinct was to use the opportunity to wrestle the gun away from her, but he hesitated. The odds of one or both of them getting hurt were too high.

"C'mon Nikki, this isn't you. We're friends. Good friends. You don't wanna kill me. You can't kill me. It isn't in you, Nikki. Now put the gun down."

"I have to-"

"No, you don't," Mac interrupted firmly. "You don't have to do anything you don't wanna do. Don't do anything that doesn't feel right."

Tears were now freely flowing down her cheeks. "But I have to," she insisted, even as her arms lowered.

MacGyver quickly stepped toward her and wrapped his hand around the gun, easing it from her grip as his other arm snaked around her back before they both crumpled to the ground, Nikki sobbing against his chest.

"It's okay, Nikki. It's all over now," he soothed as he gently rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair.

Mac didn't know how long he sat on the floor, comforting his friend, but he would sit there all night if he needed. Suddenly Nikki sniffled, hiccupped, and pulled back, looking around before her wide eyes met his.

"MacGyver, where am I? What happened?" she asked, panic tinged her voice.

"Everything's okay," he quickly assured her. "You're in Jack's apartment. You came to kill me but thankfully had second thoughts," he teased, hoping to coax a smile from her.

"But why? How?"

"I'm pretty sure you were brainwashed, just like Tom Duncan."

Mac helped Nikki into the kitchen and settled her at the table with a glass of water before heading towards the telephone.

"Who are you calling?" she asked.

"I'm calling Craig to come pick you up and then I'm going to Phoenix and end this once and for all."

"I'm going with you!" Nikki stood up so fast the wooden chair she had been sitting on skidded across the linoleum floor.

"No way, Nikki," Mac began to protest, but then he saw the determination in her eyes and knew he was fighting a battle he wouldn't win. "All right," he sighed. "I'll have Bannister meet us there."

As soon as the trio entered the foundation, MacGyver headed directly to the security desk to sign them in.

"Is Jimmy Choo on the premises?" he asked the guard.

"Let me check the log."

Mac waited impatiently before the guard answered.

"According to this he's in computer lab one."

"Great. Have the fourth floor security officer meet us there," Mac directed before herding everyone toward the elevators.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on?" Craig asked, clearly confused and frustrated.

"As soon as I check something out," MacGyver replied.

The security officer was waiting for them when they arrived at the lab. He slid his key card through the reader and the electronic door slid open. Jimmy swiveled in his chair where he had been working on his computer, obviously taken by surprise.

"Get him away from there and keep an eye on him," Mac instructed the guard before sitting down in the chair Jimmy had abandon.

MacGyver pounded away on the keyboard, easily breaking and reading encrypted programs to make sure he had the proof he needed. When he was satisfied with his findings, he turned back to Craig and Nikki.

"Contrary to what we were led to believe, the hacker also breached Nikki's terminal and loaded it with a subliminal message code," Mac announced.

"You can't know that!" Jimmy cried from across the room where he stood next to the guard who had a large, meaty hand wrapped around his bicep. "You said yourself you couldn't read the codes!"

"I'm a fast learner," MacGyver replied facetiously. "Besides, it was easy once I figured out you were using a nearly obsolete program."

"Wait a minute," Bannister broke in. "Are you saying Jimmy did all this?"

"Yes sir. And if you look you'll see that the activity can be tracked to his father's computer."

"But why?" Craig asked Jimmy.

The young man glared at MacGyver. "Why don't you ask _him_ since he seems to think he knows all the answers?"

"Because I want to hear it from you," Bannister ground out.

Realizing there was no way out, Jimmy began his story. "I blamed MacGyver for my father's death," he confessed. "Mac designed the obstacle course that my dad failed on and lost his field clearance which led to his suicide. I promised myself I would get my revenge by killing MacGyver. I worked night and day to get hired on at Phoenix. But by the time I came on board, he had already left. When I heard that the board wanted to get rid of MacGyverland, I figured he come back to fight for it. And I was right." Choo paused to send Mac a triumphant smirk.

"But if your beef was with Mac, why get Duncan involved?" Craig asked.

"I needed something big to get everyone's attention and then divert it away from me, and it worked. You sent all you're best operatives to track down the man Duncan met with and left me to work the computer angle alone."

"That way you could feed us fake information about the hacker and shift any suspicion away from you," Bannister groaned.

"And it was working, too, until you had MacGyver come sniffing around."

"That's what I don't get," Nikki piped up. "You had plenty of opportunities to kill Mac yourself. Why bother brainwashing me?"

"I couldn't exactly off him here at Phoenix without getting caught," Choo replied, rolling his eyes. "I needed someone he trusted. Someone who could get close to him. You were perfect."

"Perhaps a little too perfect," Nikki countered. "Mac was able to get into my head far better than you and because of that, he's still alive. So you're grand scheme failed in the end."

"But why instruct them to commit suicide?" Bannister asked Choo.

"I wanted them to feel the hopelessness my father felt and take their own lives like he took his!" Jimmy spat.

Apparently satisfied with Choo's story, Bannister turned his attention to MacGyver.

"And you figured all this out?"

"Pretty much," Mac replied casually.

"How?"

"When Jimmy was telling me about his dad, he slipped up and said that James taught him everything he knew about computers. That meant he would know the old coding that other technicians his age were never taught. After that, everything else just kinda fell into place."

"But what about all those fancy, new-fangled programs he kept running to track down the hacker?" Craig asked.

"They were fakes that he wrote himself," Mac explained. "That's why I couldn't make any sense of them and no other tech could have read them either. He was counting on you assigning him to this case solo. Isn't that right, Jimmy?"

This time, the young man remained silent and hung his head in defeat.

"And it almost worked," Craig groaned.

"But it didn't," MacGyver assured his friend firmly. "Now how about we call the authorities and wrap this all up?"

XXXXX

The following morning MacGyver and Bannister stood in Phoenix's psychiatric laboratory anxiously peering through a glass partition watching Doc Beatty "deprogram" Nikki, much as she had done to Jack several years ago when he had been brainwashed to kill a visiting foreign dignitary.

"Is she gonna be okay, doc?" Craig asked as soon as the session ended and the two women returned to the lab.

"She's going to be fine," Beatty assured him. "Everything in her brain is one hundred percent Nicole Carpenter."

"Aw, man, now we're really in trouble," Mac groused, albeit with a playful glint in his eyes as his friends broke into carefree laughter.


	35. Christmas Quarantine

**Christmas Quarantine**

"Thanks for the update. I appreciate it." MacGyver hung up the phone and stepped out of his office and into the rec room at Challengers. Christmas was fast approaching and the teens had been decorating for days. This afternoon, Geena and Joanna were festooning the places the kids hadn't already gotten to. As it was, they already had three Christmas trees, but this year Mac didn't mind. Walking towards the two women he couldn't help overhearing their conversation.

"Shouldn't that man of yours be helping us with this?" Geena complained as she handed a length of garland to Joanna who was standing on a folding chair, tacking the decor to the wall.

"That man of hers has a name," Mac informed the part-time law secretary and new Challengers volunteer as he approached and casually put his hands on Joanna's hips.

"Oh, I know that," Geena laughed. "I'm just funnin' her! She never blushes when I just call you 'MacGyver'."

"I'm not gonna fall, ya know," Jo informed him, glancing down at his hands.

"Let's just call it a precautionary measure," he grinned, squeezing her hips a bit tighter as she shook her head and returned her attention to the task at hand.

"Girlfriend, if you don't want this fine man of yours touchin' you, he can give me some sugar anytime!" Geena gave Mac a conspiratorial wink as she walked away.

"Okay, I'm comin' down," Joanna warned. "You might wanna let go and back up so my foot doesn't accidentally hit you someplace painful."

Figuring he had pushed the envelope far enough for now he did as she instructed but stayed alert and within arm's reach in case she lost her balance.

"So, who were you on the phone with?" she asked once back on solid ground and looking up at him.

"Craig Bannister."

The scowl that usually appeared on her face at the mention of that name remained absent, her expression neutral. Score one for the good guys!

"He wanted to let me know they caught the guy Duncan met with and recovered the documents," Mac explained.

"I'm sure everyone at Phoenix is relieved," she responded as she headed toward her office.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make up for losing a good agent," MacGyver said sadly, following behind her.

"I suppose not," she mumbled before stopping halfway to her desk and turning to face him. "What's going to happen with the recertification program you created?"

Mac was glad to see her taking an interest in his work for the foundation. "It's been put on hold temporarily. The board will eventually decide whether or not to move ahead with it."

"Are you okay with that? You worked so hard on it."

"Yeah. And it almost got me killed."

"What?! How?!" Joanna shrieked, a look of horror on her face.

"Uh, I really can't say. It's classified."

"Would I want to know the details if it wasn't?"

"Considering I'm standing here alive and well, probably not. But I will tell you something else you need to know."

"What is it?" Jo asked, concern in her eyes.

"You have to kiss me now."

"What?" Mac almost laughed at her befuddlement but knew he had to hold back if he wanted to move forward with this new diversion.

"It's kinda tradition," he clarified, snaking one arm around her waist to pull her close while he pointed up to the ceiling with his other hand to the sprig of mistletoe he had hung there earlier in the day.

"You booby trapped my office?" she accused.

His only answer was a slow, crooked smile he knew she couldn't resist.

"Well," she gave an exaggerated sigh. "I guess we can't go breaking tradition now, can we?"

"Guess not," he agreed as he lowered his lips to meet hers in a long, gentle caress.

"We should go try out the mistletoe in your office," Joanna suggested lazily once they had broken the kiss.

MacGyver took a step back. "I didn't put any in mine."

"Why not?" she asked, taking a step back as well.

"I didn't think you'd care for me being tradition bound to kiss every female that walked into my office."

"But you don't mind me kissing every _guy_ that walks into _my_ office?" she countered, one eyebrow cocked.

MacGyver hadn't thought about it that way when he hatched this little plan. Time for a little recon. He grabbed a wire coat hanger from the hook on the back of Jo's office door and gave it a yank to straighten it before reaching up and using the curved end to snag the offending piece of greenery and toss it into the trash.

"I always thought it was a dumb tradition anyways," he explained when his eyes met Joanna's quizzical gaze.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," she laughed. "Now we better get back to work before Geena starts wondering what we're doing in here."

"Oh, I think Geena knows exactly what we're doin' in here," Mac replied. "Besides, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?" she asked, a mix of concern and suspicion in her voice.

"Nothing bad," Mac quickly assured her. "It's just that I heard about this really nice ski resort a couple hours north of here-"

"You mean Cascade Ridge?"

"Yeah. I thought that once school lets out for winter break you and I could go up there for a couple days before Christmas to unwind."

Mac held his breath as he waited for her answer. Knowing her need to plan and schedule, in detail, he expected a string of excuses to spew from her mouth.

"That sounds fun," she replied.

"Wait, what?"

"I said, that sounds like it would be fun," she repeated.

"Christmas isn't until Thursday so I figure we can drive up Sunday night and be back by the twenty-fourth. That way you'll still have the weekend for any last minute shopping," he explained.

"Okay," she said with a slight shrug.

MacGyver was taken aback by this easy-going, carefree side of her.

"Aren't you going to point out that I just got back from L.A. and should spend the time here at work?"

"That was hardly a relaxing vacation," she observed.

"But you don't even ski!"

"I'm sure there are plenty of other ways to pass the time," she declared. "I do like the idea of snuggling in front of a fire, drinking hot chocolate."

"Me, too," Mac agreed, once again reaching out to pull her close. Unfortunately, the moment was marred by his unexpected frown.

"What's wrong?" Joanna asked, concern evident once again. "Don't you want me to go?"

"No! I mean, I'm just not used to you being so...so…"

"So flexible and spontaneous?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"It's my New Year's resolution," she explained, extricating herself from his grasp with a grin. "I decided that if I'm gonna marry you, I have to get used to things like unexpected trips and surprise calls from Craig Bannister."

"Aw Jo, I don't want you to go changing because of me. I love you just as you are," Mac protested.

"Don't think of it as 'changing', think of it as 'improving'. So, what's your resolution?"

"To never let you forget how amazing you are," he whispered huskily as he stole another kiss.

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The following Sunday evening MacGyver pulled his Jeep up to the covered front entrance of the sprawling Cascade Ridge Ski Resort and Conference Center. Joanna couldn't help but be impressed. She had done a bit of research and discovered that, not only did the large lodge boast an indoor ice rink, but it also had an arcade with a variety of games, several gathering rooms that each had a large stone fireplace for getting together with friends or spending time with a good book, a spa that offered manicures and massages, a number of conference rooms, and a critically acclaimed restaurant as well as a more modest cafe. Outdoor offerings included hiking and snowmobiling trails, tobogganing, and of course several ski hills from basic to advanced to accommodate all levels of ages and skills.

"Mac, this must be costing a fortune!"

"Don't worry about it," he replied with a lazy smile. "Consider it my Christmas present to you."

"I think you've covered about five year's worth of gifts," she mumbled despite the anticipation building up inside her. For years, she had secretly dreamed of retreating to such a destination and now, thanks to MacGyver, she was actually here!

Once inside, the couple waited for their turn at the registration desk. A brunette woman and a blond-haired boy stood in front of them while an elderly husband and wife bickered as the clerk tried to collect their information.

"I'm tellin' ya, Myrna, with a cough like that you should have stayed home!"

"Oh nonsense, George! It's just the sniffles! The grandkids paid good money to send us here and I'm not going home now."

"Fine! But if you die of pneumonia, don't come cryin' to me!"

Joanna glanced up at MacGyver with a smirk.

"Please, don't let that ever be us," he bent down and whispered in her ear, an amused grin on his face as well.

As the elderly couple worked to complete the registration process, the young boy standing in front of Mac began to voice his impatience.

"Mom, I'm hungry," he whined. "Why couldn't we have stopped at McDonald's before coming here?"

"I'm sorry, honey, but how was I to know we were going to get a flat tire? We'll go grab something as soon as we sign in."

The boy sighed heavily and Jo noticed the brand new pair of hockey skates he had slung over his shoulder. So did MacGyver.

"Hey, those are pretty cool blades," Mac observed, tearing the boy's attention away from his hunger for the moment.

"Thanks! They're an early Christmas present," he responded eagerly.

"You on a team?"

"Yeah. I'm missing practice 'cause I had to come with Mom to her work seminar, but she says I can use the indoor rink."

"Sounds like a plan. I played on a hockey team when I was your age. Maybe we can do a little one-on-one if your mom says it's okay. Name's MacGyver." Mac stuck out his hand and the boy returned the gesture.

This caught the woman's attention and she turned around, a slight flush on her cheeks.

"Oh my goodness! I'm sorry if he's bothering you. I'm Molly and this is my son, Josh."

"I'm MacGyver and this is Joanna, it's nice to meet you and Josh is no bother."

"Mom, can I go skating with MacGyver while we're here?" Josh asked excitedly just as the clerk beckoned them to the counter.

"We'll see, honey. I don't want you bothering the nice man," Molly responded, sending Mac an apologetic smile.

"But maaa," Josh whined as they moved forward.

Jo looked up at MacGyver and rolled her eyes as he chuckled.

Finally it was their turn to register. Joanna let MacGyver take care of the transaction and watched as the clerk handed him two key cards.

After taking the elevator up to the second floor and walking down a long corridor, Mac stopped in front of a well-lacquered wooden door. He slid the key card in the slot, threw the door opened, and motioned for Joanna to enter ahead of him. Expecting a modest motel room, she gasped when she saw the small suite. Directly across the room from her were large glass patio doors which presumably opened onto a balcony. The main room itself was outfitted with a couch, matching stuffed chairs, a coffee table and television. She noted two solid doors, one for the bathroom and one for the private bedroom.

"Mac, this is terrific!"

MacGyver shrugged, shying away from the praise. "The couch pulls out into a bed. This way I can sleep out here and get up early without disturbing you."

His explanation warmed her soul. Not many people, especially _morning_ people, understood her desire for a couple extra hours of sleep when she wasn't working. Suddenly she felt Mac grab her hand and she had no choice but to follow him to the patio doors.

"You can't see it in the dark, but in the morning you'll see the black diamond ski hill from here. Maybe you'll catch one of my runs," he said with a grin.

"Isn't a black diamond one of the most advanced courses?"

"Yep!"

"Fine, I'll watch as long as you promise not to wipe out!"

XXXXX

True to her word, the following morning Joanna emerged from her bedroom in flannel pajamas and a fluffy robe. She tugged open the heavy draperies that had been pulled across the patio doors and immediately shielded her eyes as the bright December sunlight glinted off the pure white snow of the ski hill. Once her eyes adjusted to the brightness, her gaze landed on a figure in red ski pants and jacket effortlessly swooshing down the mountain. She smiled as she admired MacGyver's gracefulness, speed, and economy of movement. When he reached the bottom of the hill he skidded to a stop sending a rooster tail of snow into the air before heading back to the lift for another run. Joanna turned away and hurried to the bathroom to shower and dress before he returned.

Jo had just commandeered a small table for two in the main lobby where a complimentary breakfast buffet had been set up when Mac walked through the front door. His cheeks were red, his damp hair plastered to his head, and his smile larger than she had seen in a long time. He immediately made his way over to her.

"Having fun?" she asked, returning his smile.

"Yeah. I can't believe how much I've missed it," he responded, still a bit breathless.

"You looked good out there,"

"Thanks," he replied, self-satisfaction obvious. "But all that exercise sure makes a guy hungry."

After loading their plates with a scrumptious variety of breakfast treats, they returned to their table and made plans for the rest of the day.

After a long, leisurely hike which included hand-holding, stolen kisses, and more than one impromptu snowball fight, the couple returned to the lodge for a late lunch in the cafe during which MacGyver convinced a reluctant Joanna to resume her skating lessons. When the pair finally made their way to the indoor skating rink, they found Josh in full hockey gear gliding aimlessly around the ice, head down. Mac looked at Jo with a hopeful plea in his eyes.

"Go ahead and play with him," she directed with a laugh. "My skating lesson can wait."

After giving her a quick kiss, MacGyver laced up his skates and hit the ice. Joanna could see the boy's face light up immediately.

"Promise to go easy on me. I'm not wearing any pads," she heard Mac call to him before they dropped the puck and started a game of one-on-one.

Joanna settled herself on a bench to watch the proceedings. She instinctively knew that MacGyver would let Josh decide when it was time to quit. Given that the boy was only twelve, it could be a while. A few moments later she felt a presence beside her as Molly sat down, her eyes on her son.

"I hope he isn't bothering your husband," she apologized.

Joanna let the woman's assumption about Mac slide. "Are you kidding? He lives for this kind of stuff!"

Just then, Josh slid the puck into the net. He let out a whoop and raised his hands, stick and all, into the air to celebrate.

"Did you see that, Ma?!" he called. "I'm beating Mr. MacGyver!"

"Not for long you're not," Mac called back as he returned with the puck to center ice.

Molly laughed. "I see what you mean," she said to Jo. "If he does become a nuisance, just send him back to the room. Unfortunately, I need to get back to my business meeting."

That evening, Joanna and MacGyver dined in the lodge's five-star restaurant. The atmosphere was romantic and the cuisine delectable. After sharing a decadent dessert, they decided to forego returning to their suite and instead ensconced themselves in one of the smaller gathering rooms. Sitting close to each other on a buttery soft leather sofa, Mac put his arm around Joanna and pulled her close. She laid her head on his shoulder and placed her hand on his chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt as well as the strong, steady beat of his heart.

"Are you having a good time?" she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

"I am," he confirmed with a smile. "How about you?"

"It's been perfect. I hate to think of leaving."

"Then don't," he instructed. "We still have one full day left."

Tuesday morning Joanna made a point of waking early. She watched MacGyver make two runs down the ski hill. His speed seemed a bit slower today and his moves just a tad sluggish, but she still could not take her eyes off his athletic, confident form. When he did not return for a third run, she headed to the bathroom.

Stepping from the shower wrapped in a warm bathrobe, her brown hair still wet, she opened the door to find Mac standing by the couch, shedding his ski jacket.

"Done already?" she asked.

"Yeah," he muttered. She couldn't help but notice his hand reach for the small of his back and begin kneading it gently.

"Maybe you should go to the spa for a massage," she suggested with a knowing grin.

Mac grimaced. "I'll be fine once I get cleaned up and have a good breakfast."

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MacGyver took a longer and hotter shower than usual hoping it would soothe the kinks in his back. Two straight days of skiing plus a couple of hours playing hockey had taken their toll, though he was loathe to admit it. On their way to the lobby for breakfast, he and Joanna ran into Josh and Molly. Josh was eager to get Mac back on the ice and there was no way he was gonna refuse the kid, even when Jo shot him a sideways glance that seemed to say he should know better. They had just filled their plates at the buffet and sat down as a foursome when an ambulance pulled up at the main entrance. The hotel manager quickly escorted the medics through the room amidst murmurs and stares from other diners.

"Wonder what's going on?" Mac mused aloud.

"Some middle-aged guy probably threw his back out trying to act ten years younger," Jo replied snidely.

They were half-way through their meal when the medics returned with a stretcher carrying an elderly lady wrapped in blankets. A man of about the same age followed behind, carrying her purse.

"Hey Mom, isn't that the old couple that was ahead of us in line the other night?" Josh asked.

"It looks like it could be," Molly replied.

"I remember that couple," Mac added. "The wife had a terrible cough."

"It must have turned into something more serious," Joanna observed with a frown, silencing the others at the table.

Once the remainder of the meal had been consumed, Molly headed off to her seminar, Jo returned to their suite to grab a novel to read by the fire, and Mac and Josh proceeded to the ice rink. After some quick warm up exercises and a rousing game of one-on-one, MacGyver showed Josh some easy tips and tricks for him to share with his friends and teammates back home. Acutely aware of the precious time he was missing with Joanna, he cut their session short, much to Josh's dismay.

"Sorry buddy," he apologized. "How about you hang out in the arcade until it's time to meet your mom for lunch?"

The boy nodded in polite agreement and Mac set out to find Joanna.

"So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?" he asked Jo, settling beside her on the same couch they had cuddled on the night before.

"Whatever you want," she replied.

Mac stared at her suspiciously. "You're taking this whole New Year's resolution thing pretty serious, aren't you?"

"I am," she answered solemnly.

"Aha! I got you now!" he exclaimed.

Twenty minutes later he had her teetering on a pair of figure skates about to step onto the ice.

"You know you don't really have to do this if you don't want to," he said, gazing into her trusting eyes.

She shook her head. "Skating is important to you, and I've always enjoyed watching it but I was always scared to actually try doing it myself."

Taking his hand, she gingerly stepped onto the slippery surface. Much to his dismay, she quickly removed her hand from his in order to grasp the top of the wall better. Once she had her balance, she started taking slow steps forward, still clutching the padded wall instead of him. Mac sighed and followed behind, offering encouraging words. Suddenly her hand shot out towards him. He instinctively grabbed it and felt her weight shift.

"I don't think I need to hang onto the boards anymore," she explained. "I seem to be remembering what you taught me last time. Just don't let go, okay?"

"Count on it," he promised, putting an arm around her waist for extra support.

Lost in both the thrill of skating and the feel of Joanna in his arms, time went by quickly. When their stomachs began to rumble, they agreed to grab lunch in the cafe. Afterward, they decided to check out the arcade and were soon engrossed in various games as if they were teenagers. Joanna's competitive side surfaced as it had when Mac had first introduced her to his video hockey game and she practically wore out her arm trying to beat him at skee ball after she had already won one air hockey game. Aware that their time at the resort was waning, they agreed to take another leisurely stroll through the woods before climbing aboard a festively decorated old-fashioned sleigh for a special holiday tour of the grounds. They ended their day with a long, romantic dinner in the lodge's exclusive restaurant where they drank in each other's company with light touches and meaningful glances taking the place of conversation.

The following morning, MacGyver watched Joanna reluctantly pack her things. His duffle was already set to go, waiting by the door.

"You know we can always come back," he told her, hoping to raise her spirits. "Besides, tonight is Christmas Eve. Aren't you anxious to see what I got you?"

This got her attention. She turned to him, eyes wide. "You said this trip was my present."

"I said you could _consider_ it my gift to you. I actually bought you something before we left."

"Well, I admit I'm looking forward to seeing the look on your face when I give you your present," she confessed.

"Oh really?!" Mac raised his eyebrows suggestively only to earn a scowl from her pretty face.

Jo had just closed her suitcase when the telephone rang. MacGyver snatched up the receiver to be greeted by a poor quality recording.

"This is the lodge manager. All guests are required to meet in Conference Room One for an emergency announcement at 10:00am."

The message continued to repeat itself, but Mac only needed to hear it once. His brow furrowed in concern as he met Joanna's eyes and relayed the message.

"I wonder what that's all about," she commented, concern filling her voice.

MacGyver glanced at his watch. It was 9:45am. "We'll find out soon enough," he replied before they headed out the door and down to the main floor.

A group of worried patrons had already gathered outside the designated room when the couple arrived and found themselves standing next to Molly and Josh. It didn't take people long to consider what this imperative meeting might be about.

"Maybe there's a blizzard on the way and we have to evacuate!"

"Or it could be an avalanche!"

"I bet it's a bomb threat! There are all sorts of crazies out there these days!"

More people began to add their opinions and soon individual words were indiscernible. Josh looked anxiously at MacGyver.

"It's probably nothing more than a broken ski lift or a hot tub on the fritz," Mac said loudly, trying to dispel the rising panic, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Once inside the large room, the manager stepped up on a podium and spoke into a microphone. Joanna glanced up at Mac, nervously biting her lip, and he reached down to give her hand a comforting squeeze.

"Ladies and gentleman," the manager began. "It is with great sorrow that I must inform you of the death of one of our patrons."

MacGyver had no doubt it was the woman who had been removed by ambulance the day before. But why the urgency to announce her fate?

"We now know that the deceased was suffering from a rare strain of influenza before she passed. Due to this, the local Center for Disease Control has issued a quarantine for Cascade Ridge until all persons are tested for the flu and an appropriate treatment can be found. Therefore, I must insist that everyone please remain in their assigned rooms, wash your hands frequently, and avoid other guests as well as common areas as much as possible. The lodge's restaurant will be providing free room service and asks that all patrons telephone in their orders. These rules will remain in effect until the quarantine has been lifted. In addition, if you, or someone you know, appears to be exhibiting symptoms such as sore throat, fever, body aches, chills, or fatigue, please contact a member of our staff immediately. Later today, a physician will be coming to perform a rapid diagnostic test on everyone. Your cooperation during this time is greatly appreciated."

"Does that mean I hafta stay in our room all day?" Josh morosely asked his mother as the crowd began to disperse.

"I'm afraid so, kiddo."

"But there's nothing to do! And what about hockey practice?!"

"I'm sorry, Josh," Molly replied, sounding a bit harried by this sudden turn of events. "But we have to do as we're told. On the bright side, I'll let you watch as much TV as you want."

Josh hung his head and kicked the carpet with his foot.

"Listen, Jo and I have a suite. How about we trade so Josh at least has a little more room to move around," MacGyver suggested to Molly.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that would be breaking quarantine. One of your rooms could already be contaminated," replied the manager who had just happened to be passing by.

Mac looked at Molly and shrugged. "I tried," he whispered.

XXXXX

Late that evening, Joanna tossed the television remote onto the coffee table in front of her.

"I can't believe it! Premium cable, over a hundred channels, and nothing good on TV!" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in a pout.

"Why don't you read the book you brought with you?"

"I finished it while we were waiting for the test results," she mumbled.

Earlier that afternoon a doctor from the nearest town had come and swabbed everyone's throat to test for influenza, but both she and MacGyver knew the test was terribly insufficient and not designed to identify individual strains. Nevertheless, it was a process they had to endure even though it would not be enough to lift the quarantine.

"Did you call your folks?" Mac asked in an attempt to get Jo out of her foul mood.

"Yeah. I explained everything and told them I'd call when we knew more," she sighed. "Did you call Sam?"

"No. He and Becca are spending Christmas with Pete and Connie. I didn't want to spoil their holiday worrying about us."

"Speaking of the holiday, this sure isn't the way I envisioned spending Christmas Eve."

MacGyver sat down next to her on the couch. "You're the one who didn't want to leave," he pointed out cheekily. "You got your wish!"

"Then I guess I better be careful what I wish for. I didn't want to be held prisoner!" she complained.

"Perhaps we could find a way to make your sentence more enjoyable," he said softly, leaning in only to be stopped by her hand on his chest.

"What?"

She felt his forehead with the back of her other hand and squinted her eyes at him. "You don't have a sore throat do you? Or the chills, or body aches?"

"I get it. You wanna play doctor," Mac observed with a sexy grin while attempting to move closer. He stopped when his eyes landed on her hard gaze.

"I'm making sure you aren't gonna give me the flu," she responded tartly.

"If you recall, my test came back negative," he reminded her as he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and kissed her deeply before raising his head to observe her reaction. "You, on the other hand, look a bit flushed," he observed huskily.

"Why might that be?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm not sure. I think we need to experiment a bit more to find out."

Joanna giggled before MacGyver's lips pressed against hers once more and he felt her muscles relax as she gave herself fully to the kiss. Riding a wave of emotion, he barely heard the frantic knock on their door. Knowing everyone was supposed to remain in their appointed rooms, he raised his head and saw Jo's eyes mirror his concern. With a sigh, he pulled himself away from her to answer the door. Molly was standing on the other side, tears running down her cheeks, her mascara smeared.

"Is Josh with you?" she asked anxiously, shoving past MacGyver before he had a chance to greet her or invite her in.

"No. Isn't he in your room?" Joanna asked, rising from the couch.

The woman shook her head and sobbed. "No. He was really upset about having to stay in and kept complaining he was bored and missing hockey practice. I went to take a shower and when I returned to the bedroom he was gone! I've already looked in the ice rink and arcade, but I can't seem to find him anywhere!"

With his hands on her shoulders, Mac led Molly to a comfortable armchair while Joanna handed her a wad of tissue.

"I think I know where he may have gone," MacGyver announced once Molly had calmed down.

"Where?" the mother asked.

"He's upset about not being able to skate, right?"

Molly nodded.

"When Jo and I were out hiking we saw a small, frozen pond on the property. I'll go check it out, but first I have to figure a way out of here."

"What do you mean?" Molly asked.

"We're under quarantine, remember? I can't exactly stroll through the lobby and out the front door."

"I'm sorry," the woman apologized. "When I couldn't find Josh I forgot all about that."

"Don't worry about it," Mac replied absently as he opened the sliding patio doors and stepped out on a small balcony before turning to survey the room.

"What are you thinking?" Jo asked, coming to stand beside him.

MacGyver peeked over the railing with a grimace. Of course they had to be on the second floor. "Go in the bedroom and get all your sheets," he told her, handing her his Swiss Army knife. "Cut them in half the long way and tie them together."

"You've gotta be kidding!"

"I know it's cliché, but do you have a better idea?"

Jo frowned and hurried off to her bedroom as MacGyver opened up the pull-out couch and set to work tearing those sheets as well. They hurried to tie them together and secure one end around the balcony railing. Assured that all the knots were as tight as possible, Mac tossed the sheets over the balcony before climbing over himself.

"Pull these up as soon as I hit the ground so no one sees them," he instructed

"But how will you get back?" Jo asked.

"I'll figure that out when the time comes. First I have to find Josh." With that, Mac shimmied to the ground and watched as Joanna gathered up the sheets.

Moving as stealthily yet as quickly as possible, he regretted leaving his warm jacket behind. But on second thought it was probably for the best since the red material would make him easier to spot and he couldn't get caught breaking quarantine. At least not until he found Josh.

Since Mac had also forgotten a flashlight, he was thankful for the full winter moon reflecting off the white blanket of snow. He had been hiking for about five minutes before he reached the pond. He thought he saw something bobbing in the middle of it.

"Josh! Is that you?!" he called in a loud whisper.

"Mr. MacGyver! I was skating when the ice broke and I fell in! You gotta help me!"

"Just hang in there and stay calm. I'll get you out."

There was no way Mac could reach the boy without going onto the ice himself and if he fell through, they'd both be in trouble. He needed some type of rope. For an instant he considered returning to the lodge and getting Joanna to toss him the sheets he had used to lower himself from the balcony, but that would take too long. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans he grabbed his Swiss Army knife, thankful that Jo had remembered to return it to him before left. He opened it up to the longest blade it had, got down on all fours and slowly crawled out on the ice, laying on his stomach, arms and legs spread wide so his weight was evenly distributed over the frozen surface. Once he got as close as he felt was safe he spoke to the boy again.

"I'm gonna slide this knife to you. Take it and stab the thickest piece of ice you can reach and hold on tight. I'll be right back."

As soon as Josh did what he had instructed, he carefully returned to solid ground to search for something to pull the boy out. He knew he had to act fast. It wouldn't be long before the youngster started experiencing shock and hypothermia. With the help of the moonlight he spotted a shadowy figure that looked to be an old outbuilding several yards away. MacGyver hurried through the snow, striking his foot against an unseen rock in the process. He reached the windowless shed and groaned when he saw the door secured with a rusted padlock. Normally he could easily pick it with his knife, but Josh was currently using it to keep himself from sinking into the frigid water. Suddenly, an idea sprung to mind and he backtracked to find the rock he had stumbled upon. Wrestling it out of the snow, it wasn't as heavy as he first thought, but it should be able to get the job done. Returning to the wooden shed, he hit the lock with the rock several times until it finally gave way. With a sigh of relief Mac entered, pausing to adjust to the darkness. He carefully made his way around the small room, reaching out and touching objects as he went. Finally, his hand landed on what felt like a rubber garden hose. He hoisted the coil from the hook it was hanging on and headed outside to get a better look. He would have preferred something more flexible, like a rope, but this would have to do. He only hoped it was long enough.

Back at the pond he found Josh barely keeping himself above water. The boy's eyelids were drooping and his arms appeared rigid. Mac stepped as close to the edge as he could.

"I'm gonna toss you this hose. Grab on and pull yourself up. I'll pull from this end," he told the frightened boy.

It took a couple tries, but finally Josh, still holding onto the knife with one hand, grasped the rubber hose in the other and began to pull himself up onto the ice. MacGyver braced his legs and pulled on the other end, careful to not rip the length of hose from Josh's hand. At last, the boy was able to wiggle out of the hole and lay belly down on the ice.

"Stay still and hang on," Mac called. "I'll pull you in."

Once Josh was back on firm ground, he and MacGyver sat in the snow, wet, cold, and exhausted.

"How did you find me?" the boy asked meekly.

Mac shrugged. "I just thought about where I would have gone when I was your age and cooped up in a hotel room when I'd rather be skating."

"I bet my mom's gonna be pretty angry."

"I can just about guarantee it. You gave her quite a scare. Come on, we gotta get back to the lodge and get into some dry clothes before we get into any more trouble," Mac said as he stood up and reached down to help the boy do the same. The return trek took a bit longer due to cold, stiff limbs.

"So how did you manage to get out without anyone seeing you?" MacGyver asked.

"I snuck out the back door of the laundry room. Is that how we're gonna get back in?"

"We're gonna give it a try," Mac replied with a smile.

Once at the main building, MacGyver had Josh lead the way to the door he had used earlier. Mac reached for the handle but it was locked. Instinctively he stuck his hand in his pocket then frowned.

"Looking for this?" Josh asked, grinning as he held up Mac's Swiss Army knife.

"Yeah. Thanks buddy."

Moments later MacGyver had the lock jimmied and they stepped into the blessedly warm room where industrial sized washers and dryers chugged away.

"C'mon, this way!" Josh motioned and Mac followed with a grin. Due to the late hour, very few staff members were present, but they did have to duck into doorways a couple times to avoid detection. When they reached the suite, MacGyver tapped a gentle cadence on the door. Joanna swung the door open before stepping back and staring at them.

"What in the world happened to you?!" she cried as Molly joined her.

"We'll tell you all about it, but first let us in before someone sees us."

"It's a little late for that," Jo responded as she and Molly stepped aside to reveal the manager of the lodge standing in the middle of the room looking extremely unhappy.

MacGyver and Josh entered the suite and before Mac could speak the manager answered his unasked question.

"Some of the guests reported seeing prowlers outside their windows. We identified you two when we played back the outdoor security footage."

"So what happens now?" Mac asked.

The tired manager sighed. "Everyone stays put for now. I'll call the local CDC first thing in the morning and see what the protocol is for this type of infraction. We'll talk when I know more."

"I'll be here," MacGyver promised as Jo draped a heavy blanket over his shoulders, the manager departing with a scowl.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"C'mon! It's almost time!" Mac called from where he sat on the couch in his apartment.

"I'll be there in a minute," Joanna responded from the kitchen before turning her attention to the bull dog waiting not-so-patiently at her feet.

"Here you go, Frog. Enjoy," she said as she crouched down and served up a canine meal of fried chicken livers.

"Joanna!"

"I'm coming!"

Jo plopped down next to MacGyver just as he turned up the volume on the television so they could hear the countdown live from Times Square. Watching the big, glistening ball slide down the pole as the year wound down always gave her chills. The crowd soon cheered and a recording of Auld Lang Syne blared. Mac turned and kissed her deeply. When he finally pulled away, she chuckled.

"What?" he asked a bit defensively.

"This just reminds me of when I was little and my dad told me once the ball dropped it was the New Year and I had to go to bed. Then I learned about time zones!"

"Speaking of which, we still have one more to go," Mac observed.

"If you would have warned me we'd be ringing in 1998 every hour on the hour since midnight in London I would've bought stock in Chapstick!"

"Are you complaining?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"Not a chance," she replied with a smile. "It's hard to believe that a week ago we were quarantined in a ski lodge."

"I know what you mean. But in a way it was kinda nice," he said softly, taking her hand and weaving his fingers through hers.

"Yeah, it was. Especially since you didn't get punished for breaking quarantine," she replied dreamily, remembering the three days spent in the comfortable suite, eating gourmet food, talking, kissing, talking some more, and cuddling in front of the television. "But it was still nice to be able to come home after none of the other guests exhibited flu symptoms."

"I'm sorry we missed spending Christmas with your family, though."

Jo shook her head. "Spending time alone with you was the best gift I could've gotten."

"Speaking of gifts, we agreed to exchange presents tonight, remember?" he asked as he reached under the sofa cushion and pulled out a small box.

Joanna lifted the lid and began to laugh. "My own Swiss Army knife!"

"I was gonna get you an extra-large roll of duct tape, but I figured this was classier."

"Oh, I love it, Mac!

"Turn it over," he ordered.

One the opposite side she found the engraving 'JF + AM'.

"Our initials! It's perfect!" she exclaimed. "I'm gonna keep this forever! Now close your eyes while I go get your present."

"You mean my Christmas gift has been here the whole time?"

"No, I brought it over this morning when you were at Challengers. Now close your eyes because I couldn't wrap it."

When she was sure Mac had obeyed, she hurried upstairs and grabbed the present from the back of the closet.

"Okay," she said when she was once again standing in front of him. "You can open your eyes now!" She didn't miss the shadow of disappointment that momentarily covered his face.

"You got me a used hockey stick?" he asked, trying to sound pleased as he examined the nicks and scrapes and dried up tape.

"Read the handle," she instructed.

Scribbled in black magic marker was an unfamiliar script that read 'Merry Christmas MacGyver'.

She saw the moment when his dismay morphed into curiosity. "Keep reading," she urged, barely able to control her excitement.

He rotated the stick in his hands until he saw Wayne Gretzky's autograph in the same handwriting.

"Jo, how did you ever…"

"You never mentioned getting a bonus from Phoenix for your work on the MacGyverland project, so I called Pete who called Craig who pulled some strings and voila! Do you like it?"

"I love it!" he exclaimed. "But not nearly as much as I love you!"

Before she knew it, MacGyver swept her into his arms and was kissing her senseless as the clock struck twelve and a whole new year began.


	36. The Guest

**The Guest**

Mid-January was always an odd time of year. The anticipation of Christmas, New Year's, and holiday activities was gone. Snowfalls that were magical a month ago were now a nuisance and it seemed the whole world was yearning for spring which was still only a distant promise. MacGyver felt this bleakness more than ever this year. Upon returning to work, Joanna had been offered, and accepted, a full time teaching position at the high school to cover for an instructor who had taken a sudden leave of absence for the second semester. This meant she spent more time at school than with him. He knew that was a selfish thought, but he still missed her presence. Now, the time they had spent together at the ski resort seemed all the more precious. Even if most of it was under quarantine. The telephone on his desk rang, breaking him from his melancholy revery and he reached for the receiver.

"Challengers Club," he answered.

"Hi MacGyver! Guess who!" An all-too-familiar bubbly voice greeted him.

"Gosh, I wonder," he teased as a smile tugged at his lips.

"It's me. Penny Parker." Her tone was serious now, almost sad, and Mac could imagine the frown on her face.

"I know, Penny. I'd recognize that voice of yours anywhere." He'd certainly heard it enough over the years. "What's up?"

"I'm flying into Milwaukee the day after tomorrow and was wondering if you could pick me up at the airport," she replied, her usual cheerfulness returning.

"No problem. What brings you here?"

"The university's drama department contacted me. They want to do a revival of Cleo Rocks and asked me to come and consult with them! Isn't that wonderful?!" Mac swore her voice rose an octave with excitement."

"Yeah, Penny, that's great. But how did they find you? The original show never even opened."

"They said they found all my information on the internet. Aren't computers awesome?!"

"Yeah, awesome," he agreed reluctantly. "Listen Penny, are you sure this whole thing is legit and not someone pulling a prank...or worse?"

"Oh Mac, why do you always have to be so negative?" Before MacGyver could express his doubts she continued. "Anyway, I thought it was kind of strange myself so I called the head of the Fine Arts department and she confirmed everything! This is really happening, Mac! People are finally going to get to see Cleo Rocks!"

Yep. This was definitely an odd time of year.

XXXXX

Two nights later Mac pulled his Jeep into his driveway and smiled to himself when he saw the inside of his townhouse awash with warm, welcoming light.

"Are you sure Joanna doesn't mind me staying here?" Penny asked, biting her bottom lip.

"Jo's fine with it," he assured her, stepping out of the vehicle. "After all, you're practically family."

Penny smiled with relief as she joined MacGyver who was already unloading her luggage from the back of the Jeep.

"Here, let me help you," she insisted as they both grabbed the same suitcase at the same time.

"It's okay. I got it, Penny," Mac replied as they lifted the heavy bag together.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!"

"Okay!" Penny let go of the handle and MacGyver, caught off guard by the sudden extra weight, sank to his knees with a loud yowl.

"Mac! What happened?!" Penny asked anxiously as she crouched by his side.

"I wrenched my back," he explained through gritted teeth.

"I'll help you up," she declared, reaching out to grasp his upper arm.

"No!" Mac exclaimed before taking a breath and getting a grip on himself. "I can manage. Go on in the house. Joanna's waiting for you."

"Well…" Penny stood and hesitated, literally wringing her hands.

Suddenly the front door opened and Jo stepped out, breaking into a jog when she saw them.

"What happened?" she asked anxiously.

"MacGyver was taking the luggage out of the car and he hurt his back," Penny relayed like a dutiful child.

"And Penny was trying to _help_ ," he added with a pleading gaze he hoped Jo would understand. After a moment, she raised her eyebrow indicating she realized what he was trying to say.

"Mac'll be fine," she told Penny. "Come on in out of the cold and make yourself at home." With an arm around the other woman's shoulders, Jo led her through the front door.

Gingerly regaining his feet, Mac stood and sighed. Penny, much like Jack Dalton, had a way of finding trouble. Or of trouble finding her. Either way, he always seemed to suffer the unfortunate repercussions. With careful movements and measured steps, he once again picked up Penny's bags and made his way into the house. What he found inside made him stop dead in his tracks. Joanna and Penny stood stock still between the spiral staircase and the breakfast bar as Frog growled at them in a way Mac had never heard before, his entire chubby body quivering.

"What has gotten into you?!" Jo scolded.

"It's okay, Frog. It's just me, Penny Parker. You liked me the last time I stayed here, remember?" She bent down and reached out to pet the dog who immediately bared his teeth. Penny quickly snatched her hand back and moved to stand behind Joanna.

MacGyver set the luggage he carried down just inside the doorway and went to stand between the two women and the ornery canine.

"This is ridiculous! Knock it off," he demanded, giving the bull dog a gentle shove with his foot. The growling stopped, but Frog remained seated, staring Penny down as if she was his worst enemy.

"I'll put him in the backyard until he calms down," Jo announced as she reached down, grabbed his collar, and unceremoniously dragged him across the hardwood floor to the patio doors on the opposite end of the room. She snapped on his lead and put him out into the night, closing the sliding door behind her.

"I don't know what happened," Penny moaned. "Animals usually love me!"

"Don't worry," Mac told her, summoning up a grin. "He's just getting old and cranky. Go on upstairs and I'll bring your luggage so you can get settled."

Penny turned to him, her big doe eyes wide. "Maybe it would be better for your back if you took the bed and I slept on the couch."

"No way! My back is just fine. You'll take the bed," Mac insisted as he moved to pick up her bags, but she beat him to it, lifting them as if they weighed no more than a feather before trotting up the stairs.

MacGyver looked on in disbelief and then shook his head in dismay as he limped toward his couch.

"She's only been in town a couple hours and already I've thrown out my back and my dog's gone crazy," he muttered. "What more could happen?"

"Do you really want an answer to that?" Joanna asked skeptically.

"No. Definitely not!"

XXXXX

The following afternoon, MacGyver was sitting at his desk at Challengers, yawning widely, when Joanna walked through his door.

"So, how did things go after I left last night?" she asked without preamble or a hello kiss.

"Depends on who you ask," Mac grumbled. "Penny took a shower, went to bed, and slept like a baby. Frog, on the other hand, spent the better part of the night pacing, sniffing, and growling at thin air so I couldn't get to sleep. I finally decided to watch TV when my VCR ate one of my favorite classic Westerns."

"Oh Mac! I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah, me too," he replied, stifling another yawn. "I decided to keep Frog here until Penny leaves. He settled down as soon as we got here."

"Ya know, I hate to say anything, but all this bad luck you're having reminds me of when we visited Penny's B&B."

Mac rose from his chair, pointing a finger at Jo. "No. Don't even go there. There are no such thing as ghosts, and even if there were, my apartment is _not_ haunted."

"I know that," Jo retorted, rolling her eyes. "I was thinking about Penny and Murdoc's ring."

Mac shook his head. "Before we left Cloverton I made her promise to get rid of that thing. Ya know...just in case."

"Then I guess her visit and your sudden string of bad luck is just a weird coincidence," she concluded. "By the way, where is Penny?"

"At the university. I let her ride in with me this morning so she could borrow my Jeep. Which reminds me," he continued, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to give a guy a ride home?"

"Mmmm, perhaps I could be persuaded," she said with a sly smile.

"I'll cook you dinner," he offered, grinning crookedly.

"That's not exactly what I had in mind." Joanna arched one eyebrow and caught his gaze.

Wordlessly, MacGyver's hands moved to cup her face as he lowered his lips to hers in an achingly gentle caress. "Better?" he whispered huskily.

"Much," she murmured contentedly. "But you're still gonna make me dinner, right?"

Mac leaned back without moving his hands and considered her carefully. "I didn't realized you were this greedy when I asked you to marry me."

"Take it or leave it, _Angus_!"

"Oh, I'll take it. I'll always take it," he confirmed, moving in and kissing her deeply.

That evening MacGyver had just pulled a casserole out of the oven as Joanna eyed it suspiciously when Penny came bouncing through the front door.

"Hi everybody!" she greeted them cheerfully. "Here are your keys, Mac. Thanks again for letting me borrow your car."

"Sounds like you had a good day," Mac observed, taking the car keys and returning them to the hook next to the door.

"Oh, it was wonderful!" Penny exclaimed, spinning around in circle. "The director found the original script and plans to follow it just as Jacques would have!" At the mention of Jacques, or rather Murdoc, the light in her eyes dimmed, but only for a moment. "And guess what the best part is?" she challenged, her enthusiasm back in full force.

"I don't have a clue, Penny. What is it?" He chuckled under his breath, his friend's mood obviously infectious as he glanced to find Joanna grinning as well.

"I'm in charge of teaching Cleopatra how to do the high kick!" she replied, clapping her hands in glee. "Remember how much trouble I had with that move until I finally got it right?!" Once again she sobered, along with Mac, as they both remembered how she used the dance move to kick the gun from Murdoc's hand as he held her captive and threatened MacGyver.

Soon the somber mood lifted and the threesome enjoyed dinner after which Joanna suggested they watch a movie. Penny flipped through the TV Guide and frowned.

"There's nothing good on tonight," she complained.

"That's okay," Jo assure her. "Mac has a ton of movies, if you don't mind Westerns."

Penny pulled a face but grudgingly gave in as MacGyver pulled Joanna aside.

"What are you trying to do?! Feed my VCR another of my favorite movies?!"

Jo shrugged. "So, pick your least favorite. Besides, do you really think it'll happen again?"

"There could be something wrong with the machine," Mac reasoned.

"Fine. If it eats this tape you'll know you need to get it fixed, but last night was probably just a fluke."

Not wanting to argue over something as dumb as a video tape, Mac grabbed a cassette covered with dust and jammed it into the machine. Two hours later both Penny and Joanna were doubled over in laughter and he had a headache.

"That was the absolute worst movie I've ever seen!" Penny offered in between giggles.

"Too bad you didn't decide to watch _that_ one last night!" Jo teased him.

"There's a reason it had two years worth of dust on it," he groused.

"Look on the bright side," Joanna encouraged as she snuggled closer to him on the couch. "At least it was entertaining!"

"For _some_ people," he grumbled.

Jo smiled and kissed him indulgently before pulling herself away and rising to her feet.

"I gotta get going," she announced. "It's a school night and teaching full time is more exhausting than I remember. Are you going back to the university tomorrow?" she asked Penny.

The other woman shook her head. "No, they don't start rehearsals until the following day."

"Then why don't you come with me to Challengers," Mac suggested. "We can always use an extra pair of hands."

XXXXX

MacGyver stepped out of his office and found Penny crouched in a corner, rubbing Frog's tummy as the dog lay on his back, all four legs in the air. Mac would swear the canine was smiling blissfully. Upon his approach, Penny turned and looked up at him, a bright smile on her face.

"Look! He likes me again! I guess he was just in a bad mood the other night."

"Yeah, I guess so," Mac agreed, reaching down to ruffle Frog's ears. "Listen, I have to go pick up some emergency supplies. Joanna will be coming over in a little bit. In the meantime, Rosie and Geena will take good care of you."

"You don't have to treat me like a child, MacGyver," she declared, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure I can find plenty of things to do while you're gone."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mac mumbled under his breath as he walked out the door and headed to the jeep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A couple hours later Joanna walked into Challengers and cheerfully greeted Geena, Rosie, and Penny who were gathered around the reception desk chatting.

"Hey ladies, is Mac around? I didn't see his car in the parking lot."

"He went out to pick up some supplies," Rosie explained.

"I don't understand why you don't just have them delivered," Penny commented, appearing truly perplexed.

Jo laughed under her breath. "Normally we do, but the holidays messed up the schedule. How long has he been gone?"

"Too long," Geena replied, studying her watch with a frown. "I hope that man of yours didn't land himself in trouble."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," Penny observed lightly as the others grew concerned.

"I'm gonna call his cell phone," Joanna announced, but before she could pick up the receiver, the front door banged open and a bedraggled MacGyver tumbled in.

"For pity's sake! What happened to you?!" Geena cried as all four women hurried to his side.

"I just had a little car trouble," he said with a lopsided grin. "Nothin' to worry about."

His hair was damp, his cheeks red from the cold wind, and his nylon ski jacket dirty and ripped.

"Mac, tell us what really happened," Jo instructed in a low, firm voice.

"It was the weirdest thing," he began. "I was coming around a curve and the steering wheel froze. I drove right into a snowbank. Luckily, a passing tow truck saw me and helped pull out the Jeep. I drove it the rest of the way here and everything was fine."

"You should still take it to a mechanic and make sure everything's alright," Joanna urged.

"Yeah, I will, just as soon as I unload the supplies."

"We'll help!" Penny offered eagerly.

"It's no big deal. I can handle it," Mac told her. Jo and Penny gave him a two step lead before they followed behind him.

The trio was standing behind the Jeep when MacGyver opened the hatch and reached for one of the boxes.

"Aw man…" he moaned.

"What is it?" Joanna asked.

"One of the cleaning solution bottles must've busted when I had the accident. Everything's wet back here," he explained before turning to Penny. "Go get me some rags. There should be some under the driver's seat," he instructed.

Jo divided her attention between Mac, who looked for any damage the fluid may have caused, and Penny, who searched for the rags he had requested. Joanna could've sworn she saw the other woman slip something in her pocket, but it was Penny's suddenly pale face that concerned her.

"Here you go, Mac," Penny said flatly, holding out a wad of material.

When MacGyver accepted her offering, Joanna took her by the arm and pulled her aside.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"There are no such thing as ghosts, remember?" Penny replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It just occurred to me that Mac's accident could've been a lot worse."

"Yeah, it sure could have," Jo replied soberly. "C'mon, let's help him get these boxes inside so he can dry out and clean up."

Thirty minutes later, Joanna and Penny emerged from the store room where they had neatly arranged the new supplies and met up with MacGyver who had just come from his office. They rounded the corner where Frog was snoozing and Penny bent down to give him a light pat on the head. The dog abruptly struggled to his feet and began to growl at her.

"Honestly, I've never seen him this grouchy before," Jo complained.

"We were getting along fine earlier," Penny informed her.

Jo looked to Mac for confirmation which came in the form of a head nod. "Must be old age," he reasoned, before they walked away.

Later that evening, Joanna and MacGyver stood side-by-side at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables for the soup they were making as Penny prattled on about the rock opera that was to begin rehearsals tomorrow.

"Ow!" Mac cried, startling the two women.

"What happened?" Jo asked anxiously

"I cut my finger," he muttered, more in disgust than anguish.

Joanna peered over him to see the damage for herself. "It doesn't look deep, but we should go upstairs and clean and bandage it."

Surprisingly, Mac did not object to her suggestion as they made their way to the bathroom where Joanna cleansed the wound, smeared it with antibiotic ointment, and pulled it together with butterfly bandages before carefully wrapping a gauze pad around his entire finger as an added precaution.

In a short while they all sat down at the kitchen table, a bowl of piping hot vegetable and bean soup in front of them when Joanna frowned.

"We forgot to put out napkins," she observed and began to rise from her chair before Penny interrupted her.

"I'll get 'em!" she volunteered, standing so quickly the table wobbled causing MacGyver's supper to land in his lap.

He let out a painful cry as if the soup had scalded him right through his jeans.

"Oh Mac! I'm so sorry!" Penny cried, grabbing a pile of napkins and dabbing where the liquid had spilled.

"It's okay," MacGyver assured her, putting a hand around her wrist to stop her ministrations. "If you'll both excuse me I'll just go upstairs and change. I'll be right back." His clipped tone belied his polite words.

Penny's eyes followed him as she chewed on her lower lip before turning back to Joanna.

"This is all my fault!" she wailed.

Jo's brow furrowed in confusion. "It is not! Granted, Mac's had his share of bad luck these past couple days, but you certainly don't have anything to do with it."

"Don't I?" she asked wearily as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver chain with a death's head ring hanging from it.

Joanna immediately recognized the macabre piece of jewelry she had first seen when she and MacGyver had stayed at Penny's bed and breakfast. It had supposedly belonged to Murdoc, Mac's greatest nemesis who died an untimely death, and now Penny believed the villain's spirit was attached to it.

"What are you doing with that?!" Jo whispered urgently, glancing around to make sure MacGyver was still upstairs. "Mac said he told you to get rid of that thing!"

"I couldn't!" Penny whispered back. "Murdoc loves me. He's only trying to protect me. I couldn't toss him aside...again."

Joanna took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. She wasn't totally sold on the idea of Murdoc haunting them, but she couldn't completely deny it, either.

"It has to be this!" the younger woman insisted. "It explains all of Mac's accidents and why Frog always growls when he sees me."

"Hold on a minute," Jo said, her voice low but no longer a whisper. "Last night we had a perfectly uneventful evening and you said yourself that Frog enjoyed your attention earlier today. How do you explain that?"

Penny's gaze fell to her lap. "I wasn't wearing the ring then," she mumbled before chancing a glance at Jo. "I didn't even realize I'd lost it, but when Mac had me grab those rags today I found it on the floor of the Jeep. The clasp was broken so it must have slipped off when I borrowed the car to go to the university. That also means Mac was alone with Murdoc when he had his accident."

Joanna hated to admit it, but Penny did present a reasonable explanation for everything that had happened...if you believed in ghosts. Which Joanna wasn't sure she did.

"Okay, say you're right," Jo challenged. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"We have to find a way to protect MacGyver. You know, keep him away from anything that could be dangerous. Do you think you could get his Swiss Army knife away from him?"

Joanna stared at Penny in disbelief. "That would be like trying to separate him from his liver! Besides, there's a much easier solution."

"What is it?" Penny asked, wide-eyed and eager to please.

"Get rid of the ring!"

Penny shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "As much as I love Mac, I can't do that. I just can't!" she sobbed.

"Alright," Jo sighed. "Then just keep it away from MacGyver!"

"How?"

"I don't know," Joanna moaned, frustration getting the better of her. Suddenly, they heard Mac moving towards the stairs.

"Here, you take it!" Penny commanded, shoving the ring into Jo's unsuspecting hands.

"I don't want it!' Jo protested.

"It's okay. Murdoc won't hurt you. He never met you, but he knows your my friend. Put it somewhere Mac never goes until it's time for me to leave."

"But-" the words died on Joanna's lips as MacGyver descended the stairs. She quickly slipped the ring into the front pocket of her jeans and pasted on a smile.

Unnerved by the conversation she had just had with Penny, it was all Joanna could do to summon enough pluck to make it through the rest of the meal and make a hasty exit.

"I'm sorry to leave so soon, but I'm starting to get a headache," she told MacGyver as he walked her to the door.

"Maybe I should drive you home," he offered.

She smiled. "It's just a headache, Mac. I'll be fine." She reached up and gave him a gentle kiss.

"Call me when you get there?"

"Sure thing," she promised.

MacGyver stepped back, his eyes boring into hers. "You're not gonna argue?"

Jo let out a little laugh. "You didn't argue when I took care of your finger," she pointed out.

"Alright. But be careful," he warned.

Once inside her car, she pulled the ring from her pocket and tossed it in the glove compartment.

"Behave yourself, Murdoc," she instructed, before starting the car and driving off into the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next several days passed uneventfully, much to MacGyver's relief, and life fell into a somewhat normal routine. He spent his days at Challengers, Joanna taught at the high school, and Penny attended the initial rehearsals for Cleo Rocks. In the evening, they would all convene at Mac's place for supper, conversation, and sometimes a movie. However, with hockey season in full swing, it was more likely that they would watch the game. Penny got in the habit of sneaking up to the bedroom at some point in order to give Mac and Joanna some private time, and her thoughtfulness was not lost on her host.

Late one afternoon MacGyver overheard Jo speaking with Rosie who was managing the reception desk.

"It was fine this morning, then, on the way over here, the light went on," she explained.

Mac was at her side in moments. "What light?" he asked.

"The tire pressure light in my car. I'll check it out when I get home," she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss the situation.

"It'll be dark by then," Mac protested. "I can take a look at it right now. Is your tire gauge in the glove compartment?"

"Yeah," she replied absently as Rosie handed her some telephone messages.

MacGyver was almost out the door when Joanna called to him from behind.

"Wait! I'll get it for you!" she suddenly proclaimed, trying to squeeze past him.

He grabbed her by the shoulders to halt her progress. "It's freezing cold out there. I can handle it," he assured her, a bit confused by her behavior, as he headed outside.

Using the spare key Jo had given him, he unlocked the door and slid into the passenger seat before opening the glove compartment. As he was rummaging through the maps and various contents he was pretty sure Joanna didn't even know she had in there, he caught a glimmer of something slide out and fall to the floor. Meaning only to return the item to its rightful place, his blood began to boil when he picked up the silver chain with a death's head ring hanging from it.

"Joanna!" he bellowed as he charged through the front door. She was still chatting with Rosie when she turned around at the sound of her name.

"What is this!" MacGyver demanded, holding up the offending object in front of her face.

"The reason I didn't want you going in my glove compartment," she replied.

"Where did you get it?!"

She tilted her head at him as if to say 'really' before replying. "I was keeping it for Penny."

"But I told her to get rid of it!"

"Well obviously she didn't!" she spat back, temper flaring.

Mac glanced at Rosie who was staring at them with rapt attention. "Let's continue this in my office," he said, grabbing Joanna's hand and leading her across the large recreation room.

"How could you be so stupid?!" he rounded on her as soon as he closed the door. A stab of remorse hit him when he saw the hurt reflected in her eyes, but he wasn't about to let this go.

"I am _not_ stupid!" she shot back. "Penny was only trying to protect you and I kinda got pulled into her scheme. If you don't like me taking jewelry from other people, maybe you want this back as well!" She ripped off her engagement ring and ground it into the palm of his hand, causing his heart to plummet to the floor.

Dropping down into the chair behind his desk, he let out a long sigh as he jammed his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come down on you like that, but you know how I feel about Murdoc."

Joanna must have taken pity on him because when she next spoke, her voice was gentle. "I know. But I thought you didn't believe in ghosts."

"When it comes to Murdoc, I'm not sure what I believe anymore," he replied with a self-deprecating laugh. "How long has that thing been in your car anyway?"

"Penny gave it to me the night you got into that accident."

"The night I cut my finger and had hot soup spilled in my lap," he added with a wry grin.

"Yeah. She blamed herself because she had the ring. I didn't even know about it until then. I told her to get rid of it and she ended up shoving it into my hand."

A grin tugged at the corner's of Mac's lips. "Yeah, that sounds like Penny alright."

"You're not gonna yell at her, too, are ya?"

"I probably should, but I won't. At least now that I have the ring I can make sure it disappears for good."

"You can't do that!" Jo exclaimed in horror.

"Why not?" he asked, unwillingly to lose this opportunity.

"You have to understand that even if you and I don't believe Murdoc's somehow attached to that ring, Penny does, and she wears it as a talisman of sort."

"Kinda like rabbit's foot?" Mac grimaced.

"Yeah. She believes Murdoc is protecting her. It means a lot to her Mac."

"I know," MacGyver grudgingly admitted, holding out the silver ring to Jo. "Go put this someplace far away from me."

"You're doing the right thing," she assured him with a tender smile before turning to leave.

"Hey! You forgot something!" he called.

"I did?" Her brows knit in confusion.

"I hope you still want to wear _this_ ring," he said huskily as he walked up to her and placed the gold band with the tiny diamond back on her finger.

"I will _always_ want to wear this ring," she promised, tilting her head to receive his lingering kiss.

XXXXX

The next day, Penny stood at the front door to MacGyver's apartment, her packed bags at her feet, looking more somber than Mac had seen her in quite some time.

"You know you could stay longer," Mac invited, hoping to lift her spirits.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I need to get back to the B&B. The director has everything under control. I'm sure it'll be great."

"But you will come back for the premiere, right?"

"I don't think so. It just brings back so many memories. Do you plan on going?"

Mac shook his head. "Naw. Like you said, too many memories."

"Well then, I guess this is goodbye!" Her smile was genuine and her voice more enthusiastic.

"Yeah, I guess so. Of course, we'll have to say goodbye again at the airport since I'm driving you there."

This earned a patented Penny Parker laugh. "Yeah, I guess we will."

"By the way, Joanna asked me to give this back to you," Mac said, gently placing the chain bearing Murdoc's ring around her neck.

Penny's eyes went wide with surprise. "How did you find out?!"

"It doesn't matter," he said with a smile.

"You mean you're not mad that I didn't get rid of it like you told me to?" she asked, sounding like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"I was," he admitted. "But then Joanna explained things. Just promise to keep that thing away from me the next time we visit."

"Oh, I promise!" Penny vowed, her face fairly glowing as she reached up and hugged MacGyver.

"At this rate you're gonna miss your plane," he chuckled. "Let's get your luggage in the Jeep."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked skeptically as he reached for the heaviest bag.

"I'm positive," he replied, lifting the bag with ease. "See, no problem!"


	37. Valentine's Prey

**Author's Note: WARING: Loooong chapter ahead...good luck!**

 **Valentine's Prey**

Joanna sighed as she crossed yet another name off the list in front of her and leaned back in the hard wooden desk chair. She turned her head to look out the classroom windows where darkness had fallen and sighed again. Although she loved her job as an English teacher at Lincoln Charter High School and had willingly added classes to her schedule to cover for a colleague, she still hated parent/teacher conferences. Not because she was required to stay into the evening to accommodate the hours of working parents or even because she too often had less than stellar news to share regarding their teen's performance in her class, but because she was lucky if one third of the moms and dads cared enough about their kids' education to even bother to show up. Yet she had to be available if they did.

The last parent she spoke with was Rosie Garcia, Raul's mom and Challengers part-time volunteer receptionist. The kind woman had brought platters of her famous tamales as well as empanadas and containers filled with Mexican rice to share with the over-tired, always-hungry teaching staff. They had engaged in friendly conversation about Raul's success in his studies as well as his behavior that set an example for others in his class. That had been well over an hour ago, and now there was only one more name left on Joanna's list: Mr. Richard Miller, father of Trent Miller. If there was one person she hoped wouldn't show, it was this one. But something in her gut told her she wouldn't get off quite that easily. A soft yet firm knock on her door confirmed her suspicions. She stood up, pasted on a smile, and greeted the final parent of the evening. Of average height and build with nondescript features, Mr. Miller still somehow managed to exude a dominance that made her feel a bit uneasy. Or perhaps she was just tired, her nerves frayed from the long day. Determined to remain confident and professional, she reached out to shake his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said in greeting. "I'm Ms. Fairfax. I'll be Trent's teacher for the rest of this semester since Mrs. Dunham has taken a leave of absence."

"Then I suppose I have you to thank for this!" he sneered as he tossed Trent's tattered report card on her desk before taking a seat across from her, his dark eyes seeming to challenge her.

Joanna calmly unfolded the piece of paper, already knowing the unsatisfactory grades and comments she would find. She pretended to study it in order to give the man before her a chance to cool off.

"Mr. Miller, I'm afraid I must inform you that these are Trent's grades from the previous semester that ended a few weeks ago. Mrs. Dunham submitted them before she left."

"You women are all alike," he grumbled. "Always trying to shift the blame."

Any trepidation Joanna had felt immediately fled as a flare of anger raised her hackles.

"While I did not issue the grades you see, I am more than happy to discuss Trent's performance and behavior since I took over his class."

"I don't need no uppity teacher telling me about my son! I know my boy. He's gonna be the first generation of Millers to go to college!"

"Sir, with all due respect, Trent is only a sophomore. Talk of getting into college may be a bit premature."

"Is that your pretty little way of tellin' me my boy don't got what it takes to get a higher education?!"

Joanna took a long, cleansing breath and weighed her words carefully before speaking.

"What I'm saying, Mr. Miller, is that it might be a good idea to let Trent explore his options. From what I've seen, he may be better suited for a technical or trade school."

"So now you're sidin' with his mother?!" The man shot out of his chair, momentarily startling Joanna before she, too, got to her feet. There was no way she would let him glower over her. "Let's get one thing straight, missy," he warned, shaking a finger at her. "No one's gonna stand in the way of my son goin' to college. Not you, not my ex-wife, no one!"

Before Jo could gather her thoughts, Mr. Miller snatched Trent's report card from where it lay on her desk and stomped out of the room. Feeling thoroughly defeated, she sank down in her chair, massaging her throbbing temples until a light tap on her door drew her attention.

"I see you met Mr. Miller," Ms. Braun, the young algebra teacher observed with a sympathetic smile. "I guess we should've warned you about him."

Joanna waved off the remark. "No need. I've taught in a correctional facility. I think I can handle one ornery parent."

"Well, I'm taking off for the night. You want to walk out together?"

Jo looked around the classroom. "No, you go ahead. I want to tidy up a bit. I'll be right behind you."

"Okay. See you tomorrow!"

Joanna watched Ms. Braun leave and breathed a sigh of relief. Her classroom was as tidy as ever...she had made sure of it before any of the parents saw it. She just didn't feel like making small talk, if only for a few minutes. Once she was sure there were no more well-meaning educators waiting to accost her in the hallway, she shrugged on her coat, grabbed her purse and secured her classroom for the night. Outside, the air was unseasonably cold causing her to hurry toward her car, key in hand. She quickly opened the door and slid into the driver's seat when her cell phone began to trill. Snagging it from the front pocket of her purse she clicked onto the call.

"Hey, you still plannin' on comin' over for a late dinner?" She allowed MacGyver's smooth, warm, wonderful voice to wash over her.

"Actually I think I'm just gonna head straight home," she replied.

"You sound rattled."

Joanna sighed. "I'm just really tired. It's been a long day."

"See you at Challengers tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be there," she promised.

XXXXX

A bleary eyed Joanna slogged through her lessons the following day. Although a deep, peaceful slumber had immediately claimed her the night before, she awoke in the wee hours of the morning, thoughts of how she could have handled the meeting with Mr. Miller more positively flitting through her brain, refusing to allow her any further rest. Just when she was pretty sure she was going to doze off despite the lecture she was in the middle of giving, a soft tap on the doorframe caught her attention. Vice Principal Varga walked up to her.

"There's a telephone call for you in the office. I'll watch your class," she said lowly.

Joanna's heart, which had initially stuttered at the sight of the woman, now beat double time as she hurried down the long corridor. Mrs. Varga coming to her and offering to monitor her students meant the call was about something bad. Really bad. Upon entering the main office, the receptionist held out the receiver to her which she grabbed immediately.

"Hello?" she answered, willing her pulse to stop pounding in her ears so she could hear the caller, but the line remained silent. "Hello?!" she repeated with growing urgency. Still no answer. She hung up with a worried frown.

"Were you the one who took the call?" she asked the middle-aged receptionist.

"Yes. I was told there was an emergency and to contact you immediately."

"Did the caller identify themselves?" Jo prodded, tamping down the panic that was growing exponentially.

"No," the woman frowned. "In fact, I wasn't even sure if the voice was male or female. It was a bit garbled."

"Do you mind if I make a couple calls?"

"Go right ahead. I'll be in the copy room."

With trembling hands, Joanna dialed her parent's number and huffed when the machine picked up. They were screening their calls.

"It's me. If you're home pick up," she said after the beep.

"Hi honey," her mom answered. "I thought you had classes all day. Is everything okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I was sent to the office take an emergency phone call, but when I got here the line was dead. Did you or Dad call me?"

"No. In fact, we just got home from grocery shopping." Her mother sounded as bewildered as Joanna felt. Then her stomach plummeted to the floor.

"Mac! It must have been Mac!" Joanna cried, hanging up the phone without even saying goodbye. She quickly punched in the number for Challengers.

Geena was only halfway through her professional greeting when Jo interrupted her. "Did someone call me? Is everything okay?! Is Mac there?!"

"Joanna?"

"Yeah, it's me. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine. Very quiet, actually. MacGyver is in his office if you want me to transfer you."

Jo took a deep, calming breath. "No. I don't wanna bother him. I'll see ya later."

When Joanna returned to her classroom, the vice principal motioned her to the hallway.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"That seems to be the question of the day," Jo told her boss, then continued to explain the events of the last several minutes.

"It sounds like you've been the victim of a prank call," Mrs. Varga told her. "We do our best to safeguard our staff, but every now and again something slips through the cracks."

"I understand," Joanna assured the woman, her exhaustion returning in full force. "Actually, I'm glad it was just a prank and not a real emergency."

The older woman smiled. "Well, you certainly have a good point there!"

A few hours later, Jo walked through the front door of Challengers wanting only to be wrapped in MacGyver's strong, comforting embrace. What she got was a steely command.

"In my office. Now," he instructed as soon as their eyes met.

After securing the door so they wouldn't be interrupted he rounded on her. "Mind telling me what's up with you?"

"What do you mean?" she replied, indignation rising above her shock and confusion.

"Geena told me about the strange phone call she got from you this afternoon."

"Geena needs to keep her mouth shut," she murmured, crossing her arms in front of her.

Mac blew out a breath and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Look, last night when I called you didn't sound like yourself, and I'll admit I was disappointed when you didn't want to have dinner together, but I figured you were just tired and needed some space. Then you call here in the middle of the day to make sure everything's okay. I just want to know what's goin' on."

His eyes were deep and dark and Joanna couldn't resist their plea. "The last conference of the night went pretty bad. One of the fathers really tied into me and caught me off guard."

"And you laid awake all night thinking about how you could have handled it differently," he concluded, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I did not!" she retorted, before turning contrite. "It was only half the night."

"Okay. Then what happened today?" His voice was calm and gentle.

"Mrs. Varga came to me in the middle of my class to tell me I had an emergency phone call in the office, but when I got there whoever it was had already hung up."

"And you assumed something bad had happened here."

Joanna nodded slowly. "Turns out it was just a prank."

"But it still scared you."

She nodded again.

"Aw baby," he sighed as he drew her into his arms. Finally in the place she longed to be she could've cried when there was a knock on his door.

"Duty calls," he said, reluctantly stepping away. "Let's pick up where we left off later."

XXXXX

After spending a cozy evening with MacGyver and getting a peaceful night's rest, Joanna felt like a new person the following day. The sun seemed brighter, the temperature warmer, and the students more cooperative. Her good mood lasted until she headed to her car after classes were dismissed only to find that her left rear tire was flat as a pancake.

"Terrific," she mumbled under her breath, stowing her belongings in the backseat before reaching for her cell phone. A phone she hardly used until a couple days ago.

"Looks like you got a problem," a masculine voice said from behind her.

She turned to find Mr. Miller headed her way. A heavy lump of dread immediately formed in her stomach.

"It's just a flat tire," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "My fiancé will come over and change it."

"No need to bother him. I'm already here and would be happy to do it," he told her almost sheepishly. "Consider it an apology for the other night. My ex always said I had a short fuse. Especially when it comes to that boy of mine. Go ahead and pop the trunk and I'll have you on your way in a jiffy."

Joanna opened the driver's door and did as instructed.

"So what brings you here today?" she asked, trying to make small talk to make the time go faster.

"Thought I'd surprise Trent by picking him up. He's stayin' late to get some science tutorin'. Save him a long walk home."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that," she smiled.

"Listen, it's pretty chilly out here. Why don't you go on inside while I take care of this?"

Joanna hesitated. She wanted to trust the man and certainly didn't want to anger him by refusing his help, so she did as he suggested. Once in the warmth of the main entrance, she peeked out a side window to keep an eye on him until Ms. Braun distracted her.

"Everything okay?" the algebra teacher asked.

"Yeah," Jo answered. "I came out to a flat tire and Mr. Miller offered to fix it."

"What's he doing here?" her colleague asked, scrunching her nose in distaste.

"He's picking up Trent."

"Well, he wasted trip. I saw Trent leave with a bunch of his buddies a nanosecond after the final bell."

"I'll let Mr. Miller know," Jo replied. "Hopefully he won't get upset."

"Good luck with that," Ms. Braun said sarcastically before walking out the door.

Joanna turned back to gaze through the window and saw that Mr. Miller was putting the jack back in her trunk, the flat tire still leaning up against her back bumper.

"That was quick!" she observed cheerily as she approached him.

"Told ya it was no big deal," he shrugged.

"Well, I still appreciate it," Jo confirmed. "Oh, by the way, one of the teachers said she saw Trent leave school with some of his friends. It looks like he skipped out on his tutoring." She winced, prepared for Mr. Miller's reaction.

Instead of exploding as he had done in her classroom a couple days ago, he simple hung his head and shook it sadly.

"That boy's gonna be the death of me," he groaned.

Joanna couldn't help but chuckle. "I hear that from a lot of parents. I'm sure you'll all survive."

Mr. Miller looked up at her then, a glint in his eye. "Since I don't have a kid to take home, how about I buy you a piece of pie at the diner across the street?"

Jo immediately knew where this train was headed and she needed to derail it before it picked up any steam.

"I'm sorry, but I have a prior commitment and thanks to the stupid flat I'm already late."

"No problem," he replied brusquely. "I see how things are. I'll just be on my way." He reached down and picked up the ruined tire, but instead of putting it in the trunk as Joanna expected, he began to walk away with it.

"Mr. Miller!" she called. "You can put the tire in my car. I can take it from here."

The man stopped in his tracks, but for a moment looked as if he would not comply. Finally he turned and unceremoniously tossed the tire into the trunk and slammed it closed before walking away without another word.

"A flat tire?" MacGyver repeated as she was relaying the events of the afternoon to him in his office at Challengers.

"Must've gone one too many rounds with a pothole," she reasoned. "They're absolutely terrible and winter's not over yet."

"And it was fine this morning? The tire pressure light wasn't on or anything?" Mac probed.

"No. Everything was fine," Jo confirmed, his tone making her uneasy.

"Do you mind if I take a look at it?"

Joanna tossed him her keys. "Knock yourself out."

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MacGyver frowned as he pulled the now-useless tire from Jo's trunk. In his experience, a tire did not get that flat that quick without some help. His frown deepening, he examined every inch of the rubber until he found what he didn't want to find...a number of barely discernable slits that no one would see unless they were looking for them.

When Mac walked back into the building, he found Joanna chatting with Rosie who sat at the reception desk, Raul next to her doing his homework.

"We need to talk," he whispered urgently into Jo's ear as he headed straight for his office.

"What's up?" she asked lightly.

He hated to give her the bad news, but she needed to know.

"Your tire was slit," he said flatly. "Several times," he added for emphasis.

"Another prank?" Her eyebrows knit together in what appeared to be a combination of confusion and fear.

"Or something more serious. Any idea who'd wanna do this?"

"Well, the obvious suspect is Mr. Miller," Jo stated.

"Agreed."

"But he hardly knows me. He already knows I'm not responsible for Trent's report card. Besides, how could he know which car is mine?"

"He probably hid outside and waited until you left the building after parent/teacher conferences. It was dark so he'd easily go unnoticed."

"And I made a point of parking by a streetlamp that day for safety's sake so he could've easily seen me get in the car," she said, punctuating the irony of her statement with an un-ladylike snort that made MacGyver grin in spite of himself.

"But on the other hand, our lot isn't secured and it could've been some kid just picking a random car to vandalize," she added.

"True," Mac conceded.

"So we're back to square one?" she asked.

"Looks that way. Just promise you'll be more careful, especially at school. Try to walk in and out with another teacher and be sure to report this to the principal first thing so the administration can take proper precautions."

He wanted to add that he would happily drive her back and forth and watch her back, but he knew she would resist, claiming he was being overprotective. Hopefully she would be right.

They lingered at Challengers well into the evening until Joanna's stifled yawns caused MacGyver to encourage her to go home and get some rest.

"Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday," she said, gathering her things before heading to the door. "It's been a really long week."

"Listen, it's Cynthia's turn to take the weekend shift. Valentine's Day is next Saturday. How about you and I just lay low this weekend and celebrate a little early?" Mac asked, hoping to spend more time with her. It seemed like since they got engaged they actually saw less of each other. He was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to work like that.

"Sounds like a great plan," she smiled wearily, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick goodnight kiss.

MacGyver watched to make sure she got safely into the car and stared at her tail lights until they disappeared. Soon he, too, was on the road toward home and was surprised to find his side of the townhouse ablaze with light when he pulled into his driveway. He wondered who the surprise visitor was this time. He really needed to change his locks.

Walking through the front door, Mac was met by a blur of brown and white fur that settled happily at his feet and stared up at him expectantly with big brown eyes. MacGyver could swear the dog with the long, droopy ears was smiling at him.

"Hi Dad," Sam greeted him from across the room as the visiting canine drooled on Mac's shoe. "You remember Cip, don't ya?"

"Yeah, I remember him," MacGyver replied, regarding the dog thoughtfully. "Kip with a 'C'. Well, there _are_ worse names. What are you two doing here?"

"Becca's at a journalism seminar in Indianapolis. I'm dog-sitting."

"Um, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure she intended for you to keep Cip at _your_ place."

Mac's son laughed. "That's a good one, Dad! Can't a guy visit his favorite father?"

"I'm your _only_ father," MacGyver replied dryly. "Now what are you doin' here?"

"Relax. Things have just been slow at work so I thought I'd take a little break. Where's Frog? I figured him and Cip might hit it off."

"He's at Challengers. Joanna and I were kinda planning on having the weekend to ourselves." Mac knew he sounded pretty blunt, but a guy could be straight with his own son, right?

"Oooh...sorry," Sam winced. "We can leave…"

"No. But you can do me a favor."

"Sure, what is it?"

"You know Charlie, my landlord, who lives next door?"

"Yeah."

"He's out of town for a few weeks and I promised I'd look after the place. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you and Cip stayed over there for the weekend."

Sam's face lit up as MacGyver handed him the spare key Charlie had given him.

"To be honest, now that I have my own place, I'm used to having a lot more room to myself. This'll be perfect!"

Mac chuckled to himself. "Go on over and get settled. I'll see you in the morning."

It seemed that MacGyver's head had barely hit the pillow when his alarm began to ring. He swatted the clock, hitting every button he could find, but it still blasted away. Groggily, he realized it was his telephone.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice raspy from sleep.

"Mac, something's happened."

Three words from Joanna and he was wide awake and already reaching for his clothes.

"Where are you? I'm on my way."

"I'm still at home."

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, it's just…"

"I'll be right there!"

MacGyver pulled onto the Fairfax's street to find two squad cars parked in front of their house, the family and police officers gathered around Jo's Chevy standing in the driveway. The Jeep's tires squealed as Mac slammed on the brakes and hurried over to find his fiancé.

"What happened?" he called to no one in particular. A number of grim faces turned to look at him and everyone stepped back to allow him a look at the car. There, scrawled along the driver's side in black spray paint were the words 'I'll get you!'.

Mac was still processing the scene before him when he felt Joanna approach. He instinctively reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.

"I found it when I came out to go work," she said softly. "This jerk knows where I live."

MacGyver tore his gaze from the vandalized car to Jo's sweet face. Any sign of shock or fear had long since been replaced with anger and determination.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," a police officer said as he approached, "But you need to finish giving your statement Ms. Fairfax."

"You did tell him about the prank call and flat tire at school, right?" Mac asked in a whisper.

"Of course I did!" she spat before turning her attention back to the cop.

"Do you have any idea who may have done this?" he asked. "Any former students from the correctional facility or the school for at-risk teens?"

Joanna rolled her eyes. "I don't know!" she huffed in frustration. "Anyone I suppose!"

"This isn't some random act, ma'am. This is more personal than the others."

"And dangerous," MacGyver added. "Any chance we can get some extra patrols or protection for her until whoever is doing this is caught?" He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.

"Sorry sir, the department is short-handed as it is. I already advised Ms. Fairfax to take extra precautions."

Mac nodded in understanding and then turned to Joanna. "Could this be the work of that Miller guy?"

"But how could he know where I live? The school considers all teacher information confidential."

MacGyver thought for a moment. "What about when he changed your tire? Were you with him the whole time?"

"Yeah. Well, he told me to wait inside where it was warm but I watched him through a window."

"And you never took your eyes off him?"

"No!" she exclaimed defensively before suddenly looking guilty. "Except when I was chatting with the math teacher."

"That's it!" Mac proclaimed, snapping his fingers. "He must have been watching you, too, and when you turned away he slipped into the car and got your address from your vehicle registration. That could've been why he slashed your tires in the first place."

"We still don't know for sure that he's the one responsible for the flat," Jo argued.

"I know," MacGyver groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. "But whoever _is_ doing this is getting closer to you and I don't like it!"

"I'm not exactly thrilled about it, either," she responded wryly. "Unfortunately, there isn't much we can do about it except be extra vigilant. Now, since you're here, would you mind giving me a ride to school? I don't want to be seen driving around in that." She waved her hand at her beloved and now defaced Chevy coupe.

"You're still planning to go to work?" he asked, concerned that she wasn't taking the situation more seriously.

"I'm not gonna let some yahoo rule my life. I won't give him the satisfaction," she stated firmly.

"So this is about pride?" Mac asked, his voice rising of its volition. "What good is pride gonna do you when he kills you?!"

"Whoa! You are blowing this way out of proportion." Her eyes held wild concern...for him.

"I hope I am," he admitted, knowing he was letting old fears control him. "I'd just rather be safe than sorry."

"So what's your plan, then?" she challenged.

"Call Mrs. Varga, tell her what happened, and take the day off. Then go pack a bag and I'll take you to my place where you'll be safe while we figure this out."

Joanna stayed where she was, chewing her bottom lip as if weighing her options.

"C'mon," he encouraged. "We were planning on spending the weekend together anyway. Now we'll have three days instead of two." He summoned up the roguish grin that always crumbled her defenses.

"What about my folks? Do you think he'll hurt them when he can't get to me?"

Ah ha, so she _was_ taking this more seriously than she let on. But what could he say to assuage her fears that wouldn't be a lie?

"So far everything's been directed at you," he reasoned. "Last night he could've vandalized the house, but he targeted your car."

"Again."

"Again," he added sympathetically.

"Fine," she sighed, twisting his heart. "Come inside while I get some stuff together."

MacGyver called and made arrangements with a local auto body shop to get Jo's car repainted as quickly as possible.

"The police took lots of pictures, but you're gonna need to call your insurance company as soon as we get back to my place," he told her as they headed to his apartment.

Joanna remained silently lost in thought until they pulled into his driveway. Then she gasped.

He followed her gaze to where Sam stood on Charlie's front stoop, coffee mug in one hand and leash in the other while Cip did his morning business.

"Why didn't you tell me Sam was here?!" she admonished, slapping him on the bicep for good measure.

"I'm sorry! When I got your phone call all I could think about was you!"

"Well I can't stay here now! There's not enough room for all three of us!"

Mac grinned slyly. "There's plenty of room. Sam is staying at Charlie's while he's out of town. And this way, you'll have _two_ built-in protectors."

"Oh, goody," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

MacGyver blew out a breath as he exited the Jeep. "Look, I know you don't want us hovering over you, but I'm only trying to keep you safe and hopefully get a hold of whoever is threatening you."

"I know," she replied softly, eyes on the ground. "It's just been kinda a rough morning, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know," he agreed, lifting her suitcase with one hand while he draped the other around her shoulders and pulled her close as they walked to the door.

"Hey Joanna!" Sam called. "What brings you here?"

"A very long story," she mumbled.

While Joanna settled in upstairs, MacGyver booted up his computer and filled Sam in on the details.

"I don't know, Dad. Maybe Jo's right about this guy. I mean, he has means and opportunity, but no motive. Or at least not a very good one. Maybe it _is_ someone from her past."

Terrific! Now even his own son was working against him! Mac turned in his chair and began tapping on the keyboard.

"Whatcha doin'?" Sam asked.

"I'm accessing Wisconsin Circuit Court Records. Tryin' to find out if Richard Miller is as squeaky clean as you and Joanna seem to want to believe."

MacGyver could feel the younger man's breath on his neck as Sam peered over his shoulder to read the results that had popped up on the screen. Mac slowly scrolled through them, clicking the mouse every now and again to go deeper into the case files, and then leaned back in his chair with a groan.

"Wow, Dad! You were right to be worried about this guy," Sam confirmed. "Do you think Jo knows any of this?"

"No. But I gotta tell her. Maybe then she'll be more cooperative."

Sam drew his eyebrows together and regarded his father. "You make her sound like an assignment instead of the woman you love."

"I'm afraid that in this case, she's both."

Sam made a hasty retreat to the other side of the townhouse as Joanna began to descend the stairs. Mac waited for her at the bottom, dreading the news he had to share with her. He waited until they were both comfortably seated on the couch before he spoke.

"What do you know about Trent Miller and his family?"

"Not much, really," she shrugged. "I only started teaching his class a few weeks ago. I know he's an only child and his parents are divorced. His dad wants him to go to college, but his mom just wants him to do what makes him happy. Nothing exactly new and exciting from a teacher's standpoint."

"Jo, when you were upstairs, I ran a quick background check on his dad."

"You're not gonna tell me Mr. Miller's an ax murderer or something, are you?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"No, nothing quite that dramatic. But before coming to Milwaukee, the family lived in Green Bay. Last year Mr. Miller physically assaulted Trent's male math teacher for a poor grade on his report card. The school expelled Trent and pressed charges against his dad. Miller served a few weeks in jail and paid a hefty fine before moving south."

Joanna's soft eyes studied his face. "There's more, isn't there?"

"Yeah. His parents got divorced last summer, after the incident. Mrs. Miller has taken out numerous restraining orders against her husband and he's broken several of them. A couple of assault charges have been filed against him as well, but they were always dismissed because Trent's mom refused to testify."

"Okay, you've made your point," she conceded, but not without a challenge. "That still doesn't give him a reason to want to harm _me_. Like I said, we straightened out that whole report card business and he seemed like a decent guy after that. He even wanted to buy me a piece of pie after he changed my tire."

"Wait a minute! What?!"

"He offered to buy me a piece of pie at the diner across the street from the school."

"What did you say?"

Joanna rolled her eyes. "I knew he was either hitting on me or trying to get on my good side so told him I had a prior commitment."

"How did he take it?"

"Okay. I mean, I guess he was a little short with me. He almost forgot to put my tire in my trunk. He started walking away with it." Here she paused before speaking again. "Do you think he was planning on taking the tire away so we wouldn't find the slashes?"

"I'd pretty much count on it. And as for a motive, what better motive is there than rejection? He got upset when you turned down his offer to take you to the diner."

"You were right about him, Mac. I can't believe this is happening." Her voice trembled as she laid her head on his shoulder and threaded her fingers through his.

"I know, baby. But we'll figure out a way to end this. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," MacGyver vowed, hoping fervently this was one promise he would always be able to keep.

A couple hours later, after reluctantly leaving Joanna in Sam and Cip's care, Mac hurried over to Challengers to tie up some loose ends and collect Frog for the weekend. He returned to find his son and fiancé locked in a competitive game of Monopoly. However, everyone's attention soon turned to the two canines who were meeting each other for the first time. After locking eyes and emitting low, guttural grumblings, the dogs cautiously sniffed the surrounding air and eventually each other. Apparently unimpressed, the two soon parted with Frog crawling under the coffee table, presumably for a nap, and Cip standing by the patio doors in a silent plea to be let out.

Relieved that the two dogs appeared to accept each other, Jo and Sam returned to their board game while Mac plopped down on the couch and turned on the television set. Unfortunately, nothing could hold his interest. Remote in hand, he surfed through every available channel twice before turning it off and pacing the floor. It didn't take long for Sam to voice the thoughts that had been troubling his dad.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," MacGyver replied flatly.

"What plan?" Joanna asked.

"The plan to catch this Miller dude," Sam supplied. "Do we just sit back and wait for him to strike again?" The query was directed at Mac.

"Wait a minute," Joanna interrupted. "I thought the whole point of me staying here was so that he _wouldn't_ be able to do anything."

"She's got a point," Sam observed.

"I know," Mac groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"I guess we could just wait for the cops to get him," Sam suggested.

MacGyver shook his head. "They can't do anything unless they catch him in the act. Even now what little evidence we have is only circumstantial." He caught Sam's gaze, willing his son to understand what he couldn't say aloud. That in order to draw Miller out, they'd have to use Joanna as bait. And that was something MacGyver would never do.

"Well, I can't stay here indefinitely!" Jo huffed. "Come Monday I'm going back to work."

Mac wanted to argue, but she did have a point. Yet, she would still be putting herself in harm's way.

"Maybe Mr. Miller will cool down by then and this whole thing will be over," she said as if reading his thoughts.

"I hope you're right," he replied. Man, he hoped she was right!

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed uneventfully and MacGyver knew he should be glad about that, but it only increased his tension. Eventually Sam and Cip returned to Charlie's apartment and Joanna went upstairs early, novel in hand. He sat on the couch and was about to kick off his shoes until he thought better of it, his old Boy Scout motto coming to mind. Fully dressed, he sprawled out on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep, only to be startled awake by a strange sound. He surveyed as much of his apartment as he could without moving. Frog lay snoring next to him under the coffee table. Perhaps it had been his imagination. After doing a thorough walk-through of the first floor and stopping by the stairway to listen to Joanna's gentle snores, he peeked out every available window until he was satisfied they were alone. Settling back onto the couch, this became his routine until dawn.

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Joanna must've been more stressed than she realized. Last night, she headed to bed as soon as Sam had left, intending to read several chapters of a novel she had been neglecting, but she only finished one chapter before the words began to blur and her eyelids grew heavy. Placing the book on the nightstand, she snuggled under the covers of MacGyver's bed and allowed a deep, peaceful slumber to claim her. When she next awoke, sunlight was streaming through the windows and she heard muffled voices in the kitchen. She smiled as she imagined Mac and Sam working side-by-side to fix breakfast. Yips and yaps from outside told her the dogs were in the backyard, probably playing in the snow left from a storm a couple weeks ago. She stretched languidly before crawling out from under the cozy blankets, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and sweater, and heading downstairs for breakfast which, like most of last evening, was a quiet affair. Yes, she had wanted time away from work to spend with Mac, but this was not turning into the weekend she had envisioned and, by the frown lines marring his brow, she knew he felt the same.

They had just finished clearing the kitchen table when the telephone jangled. Mac picked it up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

Joanna watched as he listened intently, nodding every now and again as if the caller could see him.

"I understand. I'm on my way," he said before hanging up.

"What's happened?" Jo asked, feeling Sam standing close behind her awaiting the answer as well.

"That was the fire department. There's been a natural gas leak at Challengers. Everyone's okay, the building's been evacuated and the supply cut off, but I need to go down and sign off on some stuff. Sam, do you mind stayin' until I get back?"

Joanna held back a protest, but Sam was much more agreeable.

"No problem, Dad," he grinned mischievously. "I have a Monopoly score to settle with my future step-mom."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Mac promised, bending to give Jo a peck on the cheek before walking out the door.

Joanna turned to Sam and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I hate to tell you this, future step-son, but I'm gonna be upstairs cleaning your dad's bathroom. It looks like a science project gone rogue."

After donning heavy duty rubber gloves and liberally spraying the bathtub with a lemon scented foaming cleanser, Jo began to scrub. She was half-way through when there was a knock at the front door.

"I got it!" Sam called up to her as the dogs began to bark.

She returned to the task at hand, but soon became curious about their would-be visitor and annoyed that Sam wasn't quieting the dogs. Dropping the sponge in the sink, she peeled off her gloves and headed toward the staircase. She was halfway down when she saw Mr. Miller standing just inside the door. The dogs' barking turned to low growls, yet they did not advance on the intruder.

"How did you find me!" she gasped.

"Yesterday morning I hung around so I could see the look on your face when you found my message. Then that boyfriend of yours parked practically right in front of my nose. I figured you'd end up with him sooner or later so I took a peek at his registration. Ya know, you people should really lock your glove boxes," he smirked.

Wanting to wipe that grin off his face once and for all, Joanna charged down the rest of the steps but came to an abrupt halt when she saw Sam's unconscious body lying prone on the floor, Frog and Cip guarding him.

"Sam!" she cried, lunging toward the helpless young man as Miller's arm snaked out to stop her, grabbing her bicep in a vise-like grip.

"What did you do to him!" she demanded, trying to wrench herself free.

"Nothin' a nice long nap won't cure."

"What do you want from me," she hissed through gritted teeth refusing to let fear usurp her anger.

"First, I want to buy you a piece of pie. Then, I want you to go to the school and fix Trent's report card."

"You're outta your mind!" she exclaimed loudly.

Mr. Miller reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small handgun, pointing it directly at her heart.

"You're gonna wanna keep your voice down, Ms. Fairfax. You don't wanna be disturbin' the neighbors."

Joanna clamped her mouth shut, even as her jaw began to tremble.

"Now slowly put on your coat and walk outside all nice and normal-like. We're goin' for a ride and don't' wanna be attractin' no attention. Understand?"

What she _did_ understand was that this man was in desperate need of grammar lessons, but she nodded dutifully so as not to upset him more. Once in the passenger seat of his car, she closed her eyes and sent up a heartfelt prayer for the wisdom and courage to get herself out of this situation. She heard the engine rev to life and then felt the car lurch forward. Squeezing her eyes shut even tighter, she had no way of knowing Cip had snuck out the front door and was even now following behind them.

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MacGyver was detained longer at Challengers than he had anticipated and he was anxious to return to Joanna. However, he was required to remain on-site when it was discovered that the leak was not an accident but a deliberate act. Someone had broken the valve. When Mac was finally able to return home, his anxiety ratcheted up when he found his front door ajar. He quietly crossed the threshold in case an intruder was still inside and quickly surveyed the apartment, dropping to his knees when he saw his son's unconscious body lying on the floor, Frog licking his cheek.

He gently shook the younger man's shoulders. "Sam! Sam! Wake up! What happened?!"

Frog's mournful eyes watched as Sam finally began to regain his senses.

"Whoa," Sam groaned, struggling to sit up.

Mac put a steadying hand on his shoulder and spoke softly but firmly.

"Sam, what happened? Where are Joanna and Cip?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck before speaking. "This guy came to the door. He said he was a teacher at Lincoln High and had some important papers for Joanna. She was upstairs cleaning and when I turned to call her he must have hit me ion the back of the head with something and knocked me out. Is Joanna okay?"

"She isn't here and apparently Cip isn't either."

"Aw man, he must have taken her!" Sam exclaimed as fiercely as he could given his pounding head.

"How could you let this happen?!" Mac rounded on his son, his anxiety now giving way to anger. "I was counting on you to protect her and you let a stranger, who was most likely Miller, waltz right in!"

"How was I supposed to know it was Miller?! I don't even know what he looks like and this guy looked pretty normal."

MacGyver's anger quickly turned to shame as he realized he had never even asked Joanna for a description of the man. Mac, himself, could bump into the guy on the street and not even know it.

"I'm sorry. You're right," Mac apologized as he helped Sam walk over to the couch. "This is all my fault. I should've gotten a description and I should've been here. I've lost my edge."

"You can't blame yourself, Dad. Pete would tell you you're too close to the situation."

"And he'd be right. We need to call the police."

After being put on hold and transferred several times, MacGyver was finally connected to the police officer who had taken their statement at Joanna's house the previous morning. After a heated discussion, Mac slammed down the phone.

"What'd they say?" Sam asked.

"They can't do much. No one saw Joanna being forcefully taken and she hasn't been gone long enough to be considered a missing person."

"Then it looks like it's up to us to find her," Sam declared.

"And just how are we gonna do that? We don't have any leads. They could be anywhere!"

"I can give you a solid description of the guy and then you'll come up with a plan like you always do," Sam replied full of optimism. Only Mac wasn't sure he could figure this out, at least not before he lost yet another loved one.

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"Was I right or was I right?" Richard Miller asked gleefully.

"You were right," Joanna agreed, unable to suppress a small smile. "This is definitely the best piece of blueberry pie I've ever had." Despite being kidnapped and worried about Sam, she had somehow managed to keep her emotions in check. Any display of fear or anger would only make the situation worse. She'd been in tight spots before. But, then again, MacGyver had always been with her. She was completely on her own this time...unless Mac somehow miraculously found her.

Mr. Miller tossed some bills on the table and stood. "Now, let's get over to the school and take care of that business we discussed," he prompted with a self-satisfied grin. "And don't try anything funny," he grunted in her ear as he pressed the muzzle of his gun against her side through the material of his own jacket.

Using the key Mrs. Varga had given her, Joanna opened the main door to the school and slowly led the way to her classroom, trying to stall for as much time as possible. She didn't know what Mr. Miller had in store for her once she completed her 'assignment', and she highly doubted he did either, but she knew it couldn't be anything good.

"Get a move on, missy. I ain't got all day," he growled, nudging her in the back to quicken her steps.

When they reached her classroom, she unlocked the door, took a seat behind her desk and fired up her computer.

"The grading system is all computerized," she explained in what she hoped was a calm, controlled tone. "Since Mrs. Dunham was the one who input Trent's grades, I may not have access to them."

"Stop all that mumbo jumbo and get to work," Miller commanded, pacing the aisles in the room like a caged lion.

Joanna typed furiously on the keyboard to make it sound as if she was complying. In reality, she was hitting random keys and buying time. At least until Miller came to stand behind her and watch. Her stomach sank. So much for faking it. She logged onto the system, after purposely entering the wrong password several times, and set about trying to find Mrs. Dunham's electronic grade book. At this, she did not need to fake her incompetence.

"What just happened?!" Miller demanded after several minutes of curses on his part and sighs on hers. "Why did the screen go dark?"

"Mrs. Dunham locked her electronic grade book with a personal password so no one can get into it and tamper with it."

"You're lyin'! You just don't want to give my boy the grade he deserves. Now fix it!" he roared.

"I can't!" Joanna yelled back. "I entered too many incorrect passwords and it caused the computer to shut down." That wasn't exactly true, but it was close enough. Mr. Miller didn't possess the technological skills to know any better.

"Now what am I gonna do?" the man moaned, pacing and rubbing his forehead with the hand that wasn't loosely holding the gun.

Joanna had quickly come to the conclusion that Richard Miller wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier and, if he was going to harm her, she might as well make it worth it.

"Guess you don't have a plan B, huh?" she asked wryly.

"Shut up and let me think!"

"We're gonna be here awhile then, aren't we?" she goaded.

"I said 'shut up'!"

He stalked to her desk, pulling out random drawers and rummaging through them until he found what he was looking for. A roll of duct tape.

"I don't want to hear another peep outta you! You got that?" he yelled as he firmly slapped a piece of the tape across her mouth.

He was about to return to his pacing but suddenly turned back to her. Tearing off longer lengths of the silver tape he bound her ankles and wrists in front of her.

"Can't have you go runnin' off on me know, can we?" he jeered.

Joanna leveled her best dagger-shooting stare at him, but he quickly turned away. She assessed the new situation she found herself in. Apparently this guy didn't watch much TV because everyone knows that you should tie a person's hand behind their back. Thankful for his miscue and the potential opportunity it offered, she focused on creating an escape plan.

Jo didn't know how long Mr. Miller paced and muttered, but instinct told her it was time for action. She would either succeed or fail. As surreptitiously as possible, she moved her bound hands toward the pocket of her coat which she had hung on the back of her chair upon arriving. Twisting her torso while still keeping an eye on her captor, her fingers grasped the flap covering the pocket, allowing her to pull it closer until she could slide her hands inside and grasp what she needed: The Swiss Army knife Mac had given her for Christmas. She clutched it in her fists and turned just in time to see Mr. Miller swivel towards her. He spared her a glance before once again turning his back to her. She let out a silent sigh of relief and worked the knife until she found the blade she wanted. She then pulled her feet up as close as she could and began sawing away at the duct tape. It was a lot harder than she had anticipated and she made the crucial mistake of allowing her mind to focus solely on her immediate task and forget about Miller's presence. She first realized her error when he wrapped a meaty hand around her arm and yanked her from her chair, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the floor. Thankfully, she still held the knife and when he reached down to grab her again she jammed it into his forearm with all her might, his piercing scream reverberating in her ears.

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"I think the eyes were a just a little wider," Sam said thoughtfully, looking over his dad's shoulder at the computer screen where MacGyver was using a program to recreate Miller's face. "And his lips had a slight curl to them."

"Sam," Mac sighed impatiently. "We are not recreating the Mona Lisa here. Now does this look like the guy you saw?"

"Yeah, except his nose was just a tad-" MacGyver hit the print button before his son could continue. Mac was a fan of precision, but he had a feeling time wasn't on their side so they just had to do the best they could.

Sam had just grabbed the sketch from the printer when Cip skidded through the front door and immediately sought out Frog. Soon the two dogs were nose-to-nose, sniffing, grumbling, yipping, and wagging.

"What's going on?" Sam asked his father.

"How should I know? I don't speak canine. But we do know Cip isn't with Jo." Mac's heart fell to the ground. He had been hoping the odd little hound had been protecting her. Obviously, that wasn't happening.

Moments later, the two dogs sat in front of their respective masters. Cip pulled himself up straight and kept moving his eyes from Sam to the door, then back to Sam. Frog crouched in front of MacGyver, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, drool dripping on the floor, and soulful eyes wide and alert as his entire chubby body quivered with energy.

"What it is it, guys?" Mac asked the doggy duo, feeling only party silly for doing so.

"Do you know where Joanna is?" Sam asked Cip who immediately stood up and ran to the door with Frog right behind him.

"They know something!" Mac exclaimed, grabbing his jacket from the bench by the door. "C'mon!" He opened the door and the dogs took off at a run leaving their human companions no choice but to follow.

Sam and MacGyver were breathing hard by the time Cip sat down on the sidewalk in front of the diner. Frog had fallen behind, but caught up quickly and soon had his nose to the ground, walking in circles, before he sat down and began to whine.

"Do you think Cip followed them?" Sam gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Looks that way," Mac confirmed. "And I think Frog's picked up Joanna's scent. Let's go inside and see if we can get some answers."

"Sorry hon, we got a packed house. You're just gonna hafta wait," a middle-aged waitress said in way of greeting as they entered the restaurant.

"Actually, we just have a question," Mac explained as he motioned for Sam to show her the computer-generated picture of Miller. "Did you see this guy come in about an hour ago. He would have been with a pretty brunette."

"Yeah, I remember him," the waitress replied. "He comes in every so often. Always orders a slice of pie. Nothin' else. Just a slice of pie."

"Was there a woman with him today?" MacGyver inquired anxiously.

"Yeah. Sweet lookin' thing. Wonder how he landed her."

"Did you see where they went after they left?" he asked.

"Honey, I've got enough people to worry about _inside_ the diner. Once they leave they're somebody else's problem."

After thanking the waitress for her time, father and son headed back outside to the waiting dogs.

"Now what?" Sam asked dejectedly.

With a groan, Mac slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Of course! It should've been obvious!" he said as he looked at the high school across the street.

"That might be a little _too_ obvious," Sam pointed out.

"Maybe. But right now it's the best shot we got." MacGyver called to Frog who slowly ambled over. Mac bent down and ruffled the dog's ears. "Frog, find Joanna! Go find Joanna!" he commanded.

Frog shook himself from the tip of his nose to his barely-there tail, sniffed the air, and took off toward the school, only stopping when he reached the front door. Mac tested the handle.

"It's open," he whispered to Sam, signaling that they needed to be as quiet as possible from here on in.

They stepped into the large entrance and Mac winced at the sound of doggy toenails clicking on the tile floor. He was about to herd them back outside when Frog started waddling down a long corridor.

"That's the way to Jo's classroom," MacGyver told Sam, still whispering. "They must be in there."

A sudden yowl rent the air, causing the dogs to run toward the source, barking furiously, leaving Mac and Sam to follow them yet again. When MacGyver got to the classroom, he found Mr. Miller standing next to Joanna's desk, one dog tugging on each pant leg as he tried to kick them away. Unable to hold back his anger, Mac called the dogs off before balling up his fist and hitting the man square on the jaw, knocking him to the floor where his head connected with the hard tile with a sickening thud.

"Ow! Why do I _do_ that?!" Mac exclaimed, shaking out his hand which stung from the force of the contact.

When he was sure Miller was down for the count, he looked around to find Sam helping Jo release herself from her bindings.

"Duct tape! Can you believe it?" she asked ruefully. "Talk about irony!"

MacGyver had her in his arms before she could say another word.

"Aw baby, I'm so sorry!" he apologized, kissing the top of her head. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I think," she replied, wriggling out of his grasp so she could look him in the eye, tears shimmering in her own. "I was afraid I might never see you again," she confessed in a watery voice. "How did you ever find me?"

"We had a little help," Mac told her, drawing her attention to Cip and Frog who were licking the face and hands of the unconscious kidnapper.

XXXXX

 **Valentine's Day**

A week later, MacGyver and Joanna were sitting on his living room floor, the coffee table holding the Monopoly board between them and Chinese take-out cartons scattered about. Jo rolled the dice and scowled when her little silver Scottie dog landed on one of Mac's properties.

"Aha! I got you now!" Mac crowed triumphantly. "Let's see, that's Boardwalk with three houses so you owe me…"

"More than I've got," she stated, tossing all her toy money at him.

"Gosh, I didn't know you were such a sore loser."

"I'm sorry. It's just been a long week," she replied as she collected the remains of their dinner and MacGyver put the game away.

"Have you gotten any updates on Mr. Miller?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently onto the couch with him.

"The school administration is pressing charges but he somehow managed to make bail. He's under orders to stay away from Trent, the school, and all staff members."

"Are you gonna have to testify at his trial?"

She shook her head. "Given Miller's record, the prosecutor says our police statements should be enough evidence for a solid case."

"I'm still sorry I wasn't here for you."

"Would you stop with that?! You had to go to Challengers. You didn't have a choice," Joanna insisted, turning to snuggle into his chest.

"Yeah," Mac grunted. "And I played right into Miller's hands. Who would ever have thought that he'd tamper with the gas valves just to get me out of the way?"

"Well, one good thing did come out of all this," Jo mused.

"And what was that?"

"I finally got to use my Swiss Army knife," she replied, smiling up at him.

"I'm really proud of you. You know that, right? You must have been scared to death but you held it together and did all the right things."

He felt her shrug against him. "I just kept trying to think of how you would handle the situation. So you see, you were kinda there with me anyway. I guess you're finally starting to rub off on me."

"Oh really? Well then, Ms. Fairfax, how do you think I would handle this current situation we find ourselves in?"

"Hmmmm," she responded thoughtfully. "You'd probably do something like this."

She reached up and, cupping his face in her hands, gently guided his lips to hers until they met in a feather-like caress. A thrill zinged through him like an electric shock as it always did when she initiated contact and he savored every moment until she slowly pulled away.

"So, was I right?" she asked, her voice low and a bit husky.

"You know me so well," he grinned before pulling her closer and kissing her deeply.

 **Author's Note: CONGRATS to those who make it through! Would love to hear what you thought! Thanks as always for reading!**


	38. Spring Break '98

**Spring Break '98**

"I told you I wasn't hungry!" Pete Thornton bellowed at his wife, Connie, as he shoved the bowl of chicken soup away causing the hot liquid to splash on her hands.

"But Peter, you need to keep your strength up!" she retorted.

"I'm not sick," he scowled. "I'm just immobile." He waved his hand to where his casted leg lay on the foot rest of the recliner that had been his prison since the accident.

"The doc gave you crutches," Sam pointed out. "Maybe you'd feel better if you used them to move around a little."

"And just how is a blind man supposed to navigate on crutches?" Pete shot back. "It's hard enough to walk around my own home with two good legs. You want me to fall and break the other one?!"

"Peter, watch your tone. Sam's our guest and he's only trying to help," Connie admonished.

"Well, he isn't," Pete mumbled petulantly as Cip nudged his hand with his snout. "And would someone get this mangy mutt outta here?!"

"He's just trying to make you feel better, Mr. Thornton," Becca replied meekly.

"Why does everyone insist on trying to make me feel better?!" Pete returned to bellowing. "I'm a blind man with a broken leg stuck in this stupid recliner for the next four to six weeks. Just how am I supposed to feel _better_?!"

"You need to find something to take your mind off your leg," Sam suggested calmly.

"And what do you suggest?" Pete sneered. "It's not like I can watch television or read a book! Don't you and that girl and that mongrel of hers have apartments of your own to go home to?!"

"Peter!" Connie exclaimed. "How dare you speak to them that way!"

"It's okay," Sam replied, pushing himself up from where he sat on the couch. "We need to get going anyway." He shrugged into his jacket and then helped Becca into her coat before clipping on Cip's leash. "We'll be in touch," he promised, as they headed out the front door.

"Poor Mr. Thornton is really taking this hard," Becca observed once they were in Sam's car.

"I feel sorry for Connie," Sam stated. "She's the one taking the brunt of his attitude."

"I wish there was something we could do," Becca sighed.

"Maybe there is," Sam replied thoughtfully.

"Like what?"

Sam's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "I think it's time we call in reinforcements."

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Friday afternoon, Joanna got up from her chair in the teachers' lounge and tossed the remainder of her lunch in the trash. Throughout her career she had made it a point to avoid this particular room set aside to act as both a school gossip mill and grapevine, but after the incident with Mr. Miller she decided it might be beneficial to listen to what the other instructors had to say about parents and students. Had she an inkling about the man prior to meeting him, she could have handled things differently and avoided the whole debacle altogether. She wandered to the window and watched fat, lazy snowflakes drift to the ground.

"Whose idea was it to have spring break the first week of March anyway?" she asked no one in particular.

"Hey, don't knock it," the young algebra teacher replied. "It's still a week off of work! Got any plans?"

Jo turned to face her colleague. "I'm planning on spending most of my time at Challengers. Since I've been covering for Mrs. Dunham I haven't spent a lot of time over there."

"Considering you'll get to spend every day with your hunky fiance I can't say I blame you!" she giggled.

Joanna smiled even as her cheeks turned warm. "I need to get going. I have a class in five minutes," she said by way of excuse and slipped out the door.

To be honest, she _was_ looking forward to spending the coming week with MacGyver. In fact, she decided to stay late and finish grading papers so she wouldn't have to take work home. By the time she arrived at Challengers, Mac had already left, so she headed over to his place to join him for dinner. She walked in the front door just as he was opening the pizza take-out box.

"Hey! Good timing!" he said with a grin.

"So I see," Jo replied, shrugging out of her coat before taking a seat at the table.

"Sam called this afternoon," he said once they had both taken healthy bites of their food.

"How is he?"

"He's fine," Mac replied after swallowing. "He actually called about Pete."

Joanna's head snapped up in concern. "What's wrong with Pete?"

"He broke his leg a couple weeks ago and, according to Sam, he's as ornery as a hibernating bear with insomnia."

"I can imagine!" Jo chuckled.

"Sam thinks I should go down there and keep him company. Ya know, run some interference for Connie."

Joanna felt her blood begin to bubble with excitement. She could use a road trip and time with good friends right about now.

"I thought I'd head out tomorrow since you have off all week and were planning on working at Challengers anyway," he said with a casual shrug before taking another bite of pizza.

The bubble of excitement Jo felt suddenly turned to boiling anger. He hadn't even bothered to ask if she wanted to join him! He planned to leave her behind! She felt her muscles tighten and the cheesy slice of pie tasted like cardboard as she took a bite to hide her frown.

"I figured I'd take the Nomad," Mac continued, oblivious to her change in demeanor. "It's roomier than the Jeep and maybe I can convince him to get out of the house."

"Sounds like a good idea," she mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. She couldn't decided whether to cry or to kill him.

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Joanna was oddly quiet as they finished their meal and cleared the table. She stood at the sink, hands submerged in frothy bubbles, washing the few dishes they had used as MacGyver approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck when he felt her entire body stiffen.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, raising his head and turning her around so she faced him. It was then that he noticed the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

"What's going on?" he prodded as his heart squeezed.

"Nothing," she said in a weak voice, wiping a soapy hand across her eyes.

"Don't give me that, baby. Talk to me."

She turned to grab a dish towel to dry her hands and he released her but stayed where he was.

"It's silly, really," she finally said. "I'm just overreacting."

"About what?"

"You didn't even bother to invite me along," she said softly, dashing the tears from her eyes.

MacGyver's heart just about ripped in two. He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry. I thought after everything you've been through you'd appreciate some time alone."

Joanna eased from his arms. "I know this probably sounds weak and corny, but the only place I wanna be, _especially_ after everything I've been through, is with you."

"That is _not_ weak and corny," he gently protested, losing himself in the dark chocolate depths of her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't ask, and I would love it if you came along. But I gotta warn you, Pete in a bad mood is not a pretty sight."

This last statement earned him a smile. "I think I can handle it," she assured him. "And I think Connie would like to have a female around for a little girl-talk."

"You're right," he agreed. "Now go home and pack and I'll pick you up in the morning."

Before she could move, however, he captured her mouth with his in a long, lingering kiss to let her know exactly how much he wanted her by his side for now and forever.

XXXXX

"I suppose Sam called and told you to come down and keep me company," Pete groused Saturday afternoon. His wife was repositioning a pillow behind his head while MacGyver and Joanna stood at the foot of the recliner.

"Nope," Mac replied flatly. "Just came to sign your cast."

The older man harrumphed and turned his head away from the direction of his friend's voice mumbling something about still being a lousy liar.

"You gonna tell us how this happened?" MacGyver asked, motioning towards Pete's injured leg even though he knew the man couldn't see him.

"I was coming out of the doctor's office and slipped on a patch of ice. Can you believe it?!"

Mac's brow furrowed with concern. "What were you doing at the doctor's office?"

Pete paused before blustering, "It was just a routine check-up."

MacGyver didn't miss the pointed glance Connie shot Joanna over the top of her husband's head. "Why don't you two freshen up and get settled. By then I'll have dinner on the table," she instructed before weaving her arm through Jo's and leading her to the guest room, leaving Mac to make up the couch.

A few minutes later, Mac stole away to talk with Joanna who was still unpacking.

"Something's not right," he stated firmly, sitting down on the bed.

"I agree. There's something they're not telling us about that doctor's appointment," Jo replied, sitting next to him.

"Can you come up with a plan to get Connie out of the house tomorrow?"

"Sure," Joanna shrugged.

"Good. Maybe then Pete'll open up to me about what's really goin' on."

MacGyver stood up and had just stepped into the hall when he almost bumped into Connie who was headed toward the living room carrying a tray laden with food.

"You takin' that to Pete?"

She nodded sadly. "He refuses to even try to come to the table."

"Not on my watch," Mac replied as he turned Connie back toward the kitchen.

"C'mon Pete, soup's on!"

"Connie's supposed to be bringing me my tray," he grumbled.

"Not today. You're gonna come in the kitchen and eat with the rest of us."

"How'm I supposed to do that?" Pete grunted.

"Didn't the doctor give you crutches?"

"Well...yeah. But how am I supposed to use them when I can't see where I'm goin'?"

"One thing at a time," Mac instructed as he found the crutches gathering dust in a nearby corner.

He coaxed Pete to lower the footrest and gently helped him from the chair. With his friend balancing against him, he slipped a crutch under each arm and slowly backed away.

"Alright!" MacGyver exclaimed. "Ready to go to the kitchen?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice, Pete!" Mac replied cheerfully, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"Not with you around I don't," Pete mumbled.

MacGyver carefully guided Pete into the kitchen with encouraging words and a steadying hand when needed. It was slow going, but they finally got the injured man settled in a chair, his casted leg resting on another.

"Now doesn't it feel better to get out of the living room for a change?" Connie asked with a smile.

"Doesn't matter since it all looks the same," her husband replied.

Mac glanced at Jo who raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder. He couldn't remember Pete ever being this bitter about losing his eyesight. In fact, at times, he handled it better than MacGyver himself.

Supper was an uncomfortable affair with Pete mumbling under his breath while barely touching his food and Connie surreptitiously swiping moisture from her eyes. As for Mac, he hated the helplessness he felt, but he couldn't make things better until he knew what was wrong to begin with. He was thankful when Joanna cleared her throat and began to speak, breaking the stony silence.

"Hey, Connie. I was thinking tomorrow we could go out to lunch and then do a little shopping. Just us girls. How does that sound?"

The older woman sighed. "Oh, Joanna, that sounds wonderful!"

"Wait a minute," Pete quickly interrupted. "Who's gonna take care of me?"

"I'll be here," Mac announced. "I think you and I can manage on our own for a few hours."

Pete harrumphed again, crossing his arms across his chest indicating that this conversation, and meal, was over.

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Noon on Sunday found Joanna and Connie seated at a small table in a cozy bistro just outside the city.

"So, have you two set a date yet?"

Jo's hand, fork and all, froze halfway between her salad plate and mouth. She sighed inwardly, determined to make this a good day for her friend.

"No," she replied with a forced smile. "We're still working on it."

"Well, I hope you're not letting Mac drag his feet."

"It's a mutual decision," Jo said, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she intended.

"Oh," Connie quietly responded, dropping her eyes to her plate where she pushed the leafy greens around with her fork but made no attempt to eat.

"Connie, what aren't you telling us about Pete?"

The older woman met Joanna's gaze. "Pete made me promise not to tell anyone. Not even MacGyver. Though I do hope some time alone today will encourage him to confide in Mac."

"That's the plan," Jo smiled.

After lunch, the two women decided to take a stroll and enjoy the seasonable weather while doing a little window shopping. It wasn't long before Connie stopped in front of a bridal boutique to eye the white, lacy confection gracing the display window.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" she asked her companion.

Joanna eyed the wedding dress and frowned. "I suppose, but it's not really my style."

Connie suddenly turned, grasping Jo's arms with both hands, a carefree glint in her eye.

"Let's go inside!"

Jo hesitated. "I'm not really ready to look for a dress. I mean, we haven't even decided on a season."

"Well, a little browsing never hurt anyone," Connie retorted. "Besides, it will give you an idea of what's out there for when the time comes."

"I guess you have a point," Joanna reluctantly agreed as her friend was already pulling open the plate glass door.

Before they knew it, a stylish, grey-haired saleswoman descended upon them and began peppering them with questions, none of which Jo could honestly answer. Not one to be deterred, the woman led them from rack to rack, pulling out dresses to hold up in front of Joanna. Some she returned to the rack, other's she carefully draped over her arm. Thirty minutes later, Jo found herself standing in a large dressing room surrounded by satin, lace and tulle. One-by-one she donned the gowns and paraded in front of Connie and the saleswoman as they discussed the pros and cons of each. Not realizing how exhausting this process could be, Joanna breathed a sigh of relief when she handed the final dress back to the saleswoman.

"I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time," she apologized. "But I'm just not ready to make a decision yet." She was about to head to the door when Connie came hurrying towards her, yet another gown in hand.

"I know you're tired," Connie acknowledged. "But I think this may be the one! Please try it on."

"Connie…" Jo replied, just short of whining.

"For me?"

Joanna grinned. "Sure, what's one more?"

With well-practiced movements, Jo slipped into the dress. Turning to look at herself in the mirror she could not hold back the small gasp that escaped. If she had been looking for a wedding dress, this would have been the one. Made of soft, white satin, the top of the dress boasted a modest sweetheart neckline and long, fitted sleeves. At the waist, a floor-length A-line skirt gave the illusion of a ballgown. And strategically placed floral appliques and seed pearls accentuated the dress in all the right places. As Joanna closed her eyes and imagined the expression on MacGyver's face as she walked down the aisle to him her insides turned to Jell-O. She had barely stepped from the dressing room when Connie's hands flew to her mouth and her eyes misted over.

"Oh Joanna! That dress is perfect! And it fits as if it was made for you!"

The saleswoman happily agreed. "Indeed! I doubt there's a dress in this entire store that would be better suited for you!" she gushed. "May I ring it up for you?"

Jo threw Connie a panicked look. Thankfully, the older woman seemed to take pity on her.

"Could you please give us a moment?" she politely asked the saleswoman as she urged Joanna back into the dressing room.

"Connie, I'm not ready to buy a dress and I'm sure I couldn't afford it!"

"You have to admit, it looks stunning on you dear."

Jo frowned. "It does, but-"

"No 'buts' about it!" Connie declared. "Peter and I have been talking. You've become the daughter we never had and we decided to help pay for the wedding. Please let us buy you this dress."

Joanna shook her head but her protest died on her lips. The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze as she struggled to wrap her head around the fact that she was now the proud owner of a brand new wedding gown.

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MacGyver opened the refrigerator door and studied its contents.

"What do ya want for lunch, Pete?" he called to his friend who had once again taken up residence in the living room.

"I don't care," came the disgruntled reply.

"Alright! Tofu casserole it is!" Mac proclaimed with a sly grin as he gathered fixings for some sandwiches.

"You know what this reminds me of?" MacGyver asked after taking several bites of his lunch.

"No. What?"

"That time we went skiing and I got caught in that avalanche. I survived without a scratch but you ended up busting your leg."

"Yeah," Pete grinned. "Ironic, isn't it? But you're still the only man I know who can go to pick up Chinese take-out, get kidnapped, and escape using those little packets of soy sauce!"

"I guess we both have some unique talents," Mac observed.

Silence hung heavy in the room until Pete spoke up.

"So, when are you gonna ask me about it?" he addressed MacGyver.

"When will you be ready to tell me about it?"

Pete sighed, placed his sandwich on the plate in front of him, and leaned back in his chair.

"A few weeks ago, my eye specialist in Los Angeles called to tell me that there was a very new, very experimental surgical procedure being developed to reverse, at least somewhat, the effects of glaucoma and the trials were being done right here in Chicago. He set up an appointment for me with the physician in charge of the study. Turns out I wasn't an appropriate candidate. I've had the disease too long and there's been too much damage. I tell ya, Mac. For just a little while I had this glimmer of hope and then to have it all taken away...well, it was like going blind a second time. After the appointment, I was depressed and frustrated and not paying attention to my surroundings. That's when I stepped on a patch of ice in the parking lot and fell adding insult to injury. Since then I've just lost all my confidence. I made Connie promise not to tell anyone."

"Why? It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I didn't want people's sympathy...again."

"So you shut out your friends, too," Mac stated flatly.

"Yeah. And I'm gonna ask you to keep this to yourself, just until I'm ready to tell the others."

"Aw, c'mon Pete! We're your friends! Your _family_!"

"Please MacGyver!"

"Oh, all right," Mac agreed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"Thanks. You're a good friend."

XXXXX

After dinner that evening, MacGyver insisted Pete and Connie retire to the living room while he and Joanna cleaned up the kitchen.

"Did you and Pete have a chance to talk today?" Jo asked as soon as the older couple was out of earshot.

"Yep," Mac replied placing a glass in the dishwasher. He hated keeping a secret from Joanna, but he also didn't want to betray his friend.

"And?"

"Pete made me promise not to tell anyone," he said flatly as he watched her shoulders fall.

"I understand," she assured him quietly.

"Did you and Connie have a good time?" MacGyver asked, eager to change the subject.

"Yeah, we did," Jo answered him, her cheeks turning an endearing shade of pink.

A smile tugged at Mac's lips. "You gonna tell me about it?"

"I did the stupidest thing!" she exclaimed, catching him off guard.

"Somehow I doubt that. What did you do?"

"We were walking by some shops and came across this little bridal boutique. Connie insisted we go inside even though I told her I was nowhere near ready to buy a dress."

"It doesn't hurt to look," MacGyver shrugged.

"That's what Connie said. So since the day was all about keeping her happy, I let her drag me in and even try on some gowns."

"So far it doesn't sound that bad." Mac wasn't sure, but he kinda thought trying on fancy dresses was something most women would enjoy. Then again, Joanna wasn't most women.

"I didn't want to like it," Jo confessed. "But it was kinda fun."

"So what's the problem?"

"I found the absolute perfect dress, Mac! And Connie insisted on buying it for me!"

MacGyver laughed in relief and reached out to hug her. "That's great, baby!"

"No, it's not!" she insisted, pulling away from him. "I had already decided to just wear a nice, sensible dress or maybe a skirt suit. I don't need some fancy, overpriced concoction to make the day special."

Mac found Jo's troubled gaze and grasped her firmly by the shoulders. "I agree. You don't _need_ it, but I know that you deserve it. Especially if you love it. In fact, I bet you dreamed about finding the perfect dress growing up."

Joanna shrugged and MacGyver let his hands drop. "That's just it, Mac. It was a dream. One that died a long time ago. The dress...the wedding...none of that's important. It's the marriage that matters. The store is keeping the dress until I ask them to ship it to Milwaukee. I'm gonna give Sam and Becca the receipt so they can return it."

"You sure you wanna do that?"

She nodded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joanna had just finished combing her hair the next morning when there was a knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in," she called, knowing it had to be either Connie or Mac.

"Um, my hands are a little full right now," came the reply in an unexpected voice.

Hurrying to the door, she opened it to find Pete waiting on the other side, leaning on his crutches.

"I let my seeing-eye-troubleshooter get away," he said with a wry grin. "Mind if I come in?"

Joanna gently guided the older man through the doorway and to the bed where he carefully settled on the edge of the mattress.

"Seems I owe you an apology and explanation for the boorish way I've been acting these past couple days," he sighed gustily.

"That's okay. You don't have too-"

"Yes, I do! Eventually you're gonna marry my best friend, and you've become like family to Connie and me. I want you to know the truth." And with that, Pete launched into the explanation he had given MacGyver the previous afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Pete," Jo replied when he finished talking. She knew the words were inadequate, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Don't be. I should've known better than to get my hopes up anyway, but now you know the whole story. And from what I hear, I'm not the only one in this house keeping secrets."

Joanna blew out a breath and sat down next to Pete. "Mac told you about the dress," she stated.

"He just wants you to be happy, and so do Connie and I. If you both do this right, you'll only do it once so make the most of it."

"Breakfast's ready!" Connie called.

"Would you mind escorting a blind guy with a broken leg to the kitchen table?" Pete asked.

"It would be my pleasure," Jo responded with a smile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that afternoon, MacGyver sat at the kitchen table studying the small electronic gadgets laid out before him. His concentration was interrupted when Joanna breezed into the room and began to pour herself a glass of juice.

"So where did you run off to earlier," she asked.

"I took a little field trip to the Phoenix Foundation downtown and convinced them to let me borrow some things," he replied.

Jo moved to stand behind him and bent down so her mouth nearly touched his ear. Forget about his concentration being interrupted. Her close presence totally shattered it!

"What's that stuff?"

"It's a surprise for Pete," he told her, his voice husky. "Sit down and I'll show you."

With Joanna seated across from him and his teenage-like hormones firmly under control, he began to explain his project.

"Pete doesn't want to move around 'cuz he's afraid of bumping into things, right?"

"Right," Jo confirmed with a nod.

"Well, I'm gonna make a gadget that'll detect when he's getting close to an object."

"Kinda like sonar?"

"Actually, pretty much exactly like sonar," Mac laughed happily, duly impressed with her deduction.

"So how does it work?"

"I used one of the computers at Phoenix to write and upload the code. Now all I have to do is use these wires to connect this arduino to the ultrasonic sensor and plug in the buzzer."

It didn't take long for Mac to assemble the components.

"Wanna test it?" he asked.

Joanna's eyes brightened. "You bet! What do I do?"

MacGyver turned on the mini-sonar device.

"Hear that beeping?" he asked and waited until she nodded before proceeding. "Okay, hold the palm of your hand in front of the sensor and slowly move it closer."

Jo did as he instructed. The beeps came fast the closer her hands got to it.

"It works!" she exclaimed.

"Don't sound so surprised," Mac frowned playfully. "Now grab me a ball of twine from that drawer and let's have Pete try this out."

"Are you gonna tie it to one of his crutches?" Joanna asked as she followed orders.

"No. It works best if it's placed in the middle of the moving mass."

Jo quirked her eyebrows and MacGyver grinned. "I'm gonna attach it to his belt buckle."

"Okay Pete, take it for a spin," Mac urged as his friend stood in front of the recliner leaning on his crutches.

"I feel ridiculous," Pete mumbled.

"Aw, C'mon! All the cool kids are wearing them!" MacGyver countered.

"I do know my way around my own house," his friend pointed out.

"And you've been afraid to move around on your own since the accident. Think of it as a seeing-eye dog until you get back on two feet."

"Okay, here goes nothin'," Pete mumbled as he cautiously began to move forward. Soon the slow, steady rhythm of the beeps became more rapid and he stopped.

"By my calculations, I should be in the middle of the room. In open space. Connie, did you rearrange the furniture?"

"You're right, Pete," Mac replied instead. "There's no furniture there. But you were just about to wipe out my fiance."

"Oh! I'm, ah, sorry Joanna," Pete apologized sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it," she laughed. "It was all part of the test."

"Ha! Then this thing really does work!" the older man exclaimed with a grin.

"The downside is that you can't sneak up on anybody," Mac observed.

"That's a plus in _my_ book!" Connie declared happily, causing the others to break into easy laughter.

XXXXX

"Are you sure you can't stay longer?" Connie asked as MacGyver loaded the luggage into the Nomad while Joanna hugged the Thorntons good-bye.

"We've been here since Saturday. We don't wanna wear out our welcome," Mac replied, giving her a hug of his own.

"Like you could ever do that!" she scoffed.

"Besides, we need to get back to Challengers," Joanna explained.

"And maybe spend some private time together?" Pete added with a knowing grin.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Mac agreed with a wink at Joanna as the couple got in the car to head home.

Forty-five minutes later, the Nomad sat stopped on I-94 in the middle of downtown Chicago, the victim of the city's infamous traffic jams. MacGyver heard Joanna's cell phone trill from deep in her purse. He watched as she rummaged around in her handbag until she retrieved the device. He noticed a white slip of paper escape and flutter to the floorboards. Instinctively, he bent to pick it up and his heart stuttered when his eyes fell on the words 'Bridal Boutique'.

"Hi Ma," Jo spoke into the phone. "We're caught in a traffic jam...yeah, I know...I'll see you later tonight."

After she clicked off the call, Mac handed the receipt to her. "I think you dropped something," he said casually.

"Oh, thanks," Joanna replied with a slight blush as she grabbed the piece of paper and shoved it back in her purse.

"I thought you were gonna give that to Sam and Becca."

"I was...I am...I just thought it wouldn't hurt to hang onto it for awhile," she stuttered.

"Can I ask you something?" Mac ventured.

"Of course. What is it?"

"We've been engaged for what? Almost six months now?"

"Sounds about right," she replied.

"I know we promised to do this whole wedding thing on our terms, but I kinda thought you'd be starting to make some plans by now." MacGyver tightened his hands on the steering wheel even though the car wasn't moving. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No!" she exclaimed, turning her upper body to face him. "Not at all. Why? Are you?"

He heard the fear and uncertainty in her voice and mentally kicked himself for putting it there.

"No! And I'm still fine with us taking our time, but I just wanna make sure there's nothing more to it."

Joanna lowered her eyes and fell silent for so long MacGyver was ready to turn on the radio just to hear another human voice.

"It's not something I'm proud of," she finally said in a soft voice. "You know that my grandma lived with us while I was growing up."

Mac nodded but didn't interrupt.

"Well, she had heart problems from the time I was little, and whenever we made plans to go on vacation or even just a day trip they'd often get cancelled at the last minute because she wasn't feeling well. Then, when I got older, my friends and I would talk about doin' stuff, but they'd forget or bail on me. So, long story short, over the years I trained myself not to get excited about or count on long-term plans because I often ended up disappointed."

MacGyver relaxed as understanding dawned. "You don't want to start planning the wedding because you're afraid something will happen to ruin it."

"Or cancel it altogether," she shrugged. "In my head I know that's dumb."

"It's _not_ dumb," Mac assured her. "And there is nothing in this world that's gonna keep me from marrying you. I promise that I will do everything I can to make our wedding day exactly how you want. But if things go sideways, we'll work through it together."

He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, tenderly wiping away an errant tear.

"Does this mean you're keeping the dress?" he asked quietly.

"I know it's not practical like I had wanted, but I really do love it," she confessed. "And I think you'll love it too."

"Baby, you could wear a paper sack and I'd love it!" This earned him a watery chuckle.

"Ya know, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to start thinking about what we want our wedding day to be like," she suggested.

"I bet you got a whole bunch of ideas in that head of yours just waiting to break free," he teased.

"Mmm, maybe one or two," she grinned.


	39. Til Death

**Til Death**

Macgyver pulled the Nomad into the driveway and blew out a breath. It had taken twice as long as usual to drive back from Chicago. He and Joanna had agreed to grab a quick lunch at his place before checking in at Challengers. As they made their way up the front walk, they could hear a television blaring away. Jo cast Mac a questioning glance.

"Gotta be comin' from Charlie's," he told her. "I've noticed he's getting a little hard of hearing but won't admit it."

When they got to the front door, MacGyver put his key in the lock and the knob turned easily...a little _too_ easily. Turning toward a wide-eyed Joanna, he put a finger to his lips with one hand and used the other to gently push her behind him. He allowed the door to swing silently open only to discover that the ruckus they heard was coming from his own TV. He visually scanned the open space, stopping when he saw a brown-haired head resting on the arm of his couch, a tattered aviator's cap balanced on top. He took a few cautious steps into the room, Jo following behind.

"Jaaack?"

The only response was a loud snore.

"Jack!" MacGyver barked.

The startled form on the couch jerked awake. "Oh, hiya, Mac!"

"What are you doin' here, Jack?" MacGyver asked as he prowled toward his friend.

"You stayed at my place when you came to L.A. so I thought I'd let you return the favor."

"How did you get in?"

"You're landlord, Charlie, let me in. Said he remembered me from the last time I was here."

"Well, you are kinda hard to forget," Mac muttered. "Now tell me, what are you _really_ doin' here?"

Jack rose from the couch and made a show of straightening the wrinkled shirt under his bomber jacket as he approached his best friend.

"Normally, I would attempt to amuse you with a pithy reply," he said loftily. "But this is too important, so I'm gonna give it to ya straight. Mac, I'm gettin' married!"

"Hold on. Say that again," Mac demanded studying his friend carefully.

"I'm getting married. For real. Look," Jack pointed to his left eye, "No twitching."

"Congratulations!" MacGyver exclaimed, embracing Jack. "Who is she? When's the the big day?"

"Her name is Nanette Dubois," Jack answered, grinning broadly. "And the wedding is Saturday. I came here because I wanted to ask you in person to be my best man."

Mac's head began to spin with questions. "Whoa, wait a minute. Don't you think that's awful quick? I mean, what do you know about her? How did you two meet?"

"About a month ago her brother, Frank, hired me to fly him down to Mexico and then put me on retainer. He inherited his father's import/export business and started giving me steady business. Nanette came along on one of our flights and the rest, my good man, is history."

"What, exactly, does Frank import and export?" MacGyver asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Don't know, don't care. Jack just fly plane, Kemosabe! And gets paid quite handsomely for doing so, I might add."

"And what about you and Nanette?"

"What can I say, Mac m'boy? It was love at first sight!"

"So you're getting married _this_ Saturday to a woman you've only known for a month?! C'mon Jack, think about this!"

"There's nothing to think about! When it's right, it's right. You're just upset because out of the two future bridegrooms in this house you're not getting married first!"

"What?! That's ridiculous!" Mac shot back. "Besides, Joanna and I have our reasons."

"Well, so do I!" Jack parried. "I'm not gettin' any younger, Mac. This might be my last chance to settle down and start populating the world with little Jack Juniors. So will ya do it, Mac? Will ya be my best man?"

MacGyver pinched the bridge of his nose knowing that somehow, some way, he was going to regret his answer. "I'd be honored to."

"I knew I could count on you!" Jack exclaimed with a gleeful smile. "I figure I'll fly us all out to Vegas on Friday and-"

"You're getting married in Las Vegas?" Mac interrupted.

"Sure," Jack shrugged. "Frank is part owner of one of the big hotels out there and keeps a block of luxury suites reserved."

"Are you gonna have an Elvis impersonator perform the ceremony?" Joanna asked.

"The King is so cliche, mademoiselle! Those of us with more discriminating taste much prefer to be joined in wedlock by Wayne Newton."

A sudden throbbing took up residence in MacGyver's temple.

"Look, Jack, Jo and I just got back from Chicago and we need to check in at Challengers. We'll talk more when I get back."

"No problemo! Can you imagine it, Mac? Me, Jack Dalton, finally gettin' hitched. Who'da thunk it?!"

MacGyver and Joanna walked through the entrance to Challengers to find the closest thing to chaos he had seen since beginning this venture. Geena and Rosie scurried about trying to keep some semblance of control, looking contrite when they came to stand in front of him.

"What's going on?!" he snapped.

"Cynthia's home sick with bronchitis," Rosie explained.

"And a bunch of volunteers backed out at the last minute," Geena offered. "With the cold weather and the schools still closed for Spring Break, we have more kids here then expected."

"Why didn't you call me?!"

"We didn't want to ruin your visit with your friend and his wife," Rosie replied innocently.

"We thought we could handle it," Geena added.

Before he could say something he'd regret, Mac grabbed Joanna by the wrist and strode toward his office, not stopping until he flopped into the chair behind his desk, head in his hands.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he moaned. "I can't leave Challengers to go running off to Vegas, but Jack would never forgive me if I missed his wedding." He slowly became aware of Jo's soft hand soothingly rubbing his tense forearm and he allowed his muscles to relax slightly.

"You still have a whole day before you have to leave," Joanna said calmly. "Why not have Jack help out here tomorrow and then I'll stay behind while you go help your best friend get married."

"You sure about that?" he asked, his heart overflowing with love for the woman in front of him.

"Absolutely."

"You're terrific. You know that?" he asked huskily before grasping her wrist, more gently this time, and placing a tender kiss in the palm of her hand.

XXXXX

Early Friday afternoon, Jack brought his Cessna to a stop outside a hangar at the North Las Vegas Airport. The small but well-appointed airfield was a favorite of wealthy businessmen unwilling to deal with the congestion of the more centrally located McCarren International. As MacGyver followed Jack down the steps of the plane, he noticed a black, stretch limousine with tinted windows parked nearby.

"Our ride awaits!" the pilot proclaimed with a large smile, gesturing toward the vehicle.

"Wait, you mean that's for us?!" Mac asked incredulously.

"You bet! Courtesy of my soon-to-be brother-in-law!" Jack slapped MacGyver on the shoulder and guided him toward the car.

Once settled in the buttery leather backseat of the luxury vehicle, Jack pulled out a beer from the mini-fridge and handed Mac a bottle of high-end purified watered. MacGyver automatically took the offered drink but left it untouched, more concerned with the lead ball growing in the pit of his stomach. Over the last couple days, Jack had talked incessantly about Nanette but had still managed to say very little about her. A whirlwind courtship with a woman who's brother provided Jack with steady business, luxury hotel suites, and limos all added up to something that smelled a bit fishy to MacGyver, and he hated himself for the question he was about to ask.

"Jack, I wanna ask you something, but I need you to promise you won't get mad at me. I'm only asking because I care about you."

"Okay, I won't get mad at you," Jack shrugged, taking another swig of beer. "C'mon, out with it!"

Mac took a deep breath to steel himself. "Are you marrying Nanette for her brother's money?"

Jack lowered his beer bottle and turned to MacGyver, his face somber. "How could you think that about me?" he asked. "You're my best friend."

"Exactly! I'm your best friend. I _know_ you Jack. Always looking for the next great business venture and here it is handed to you on a silver platter along with shiny cars and fancy hotel suites."

"I guess I understand how you could think that," Jack sighed. "I guess I have a rather colorful track record, but I'm tellin' you, this is different. I really love Nanette. And she loves me. I don't care about her brother's fancy hotels or limousines and neither does she!"

"I'm sorry Jack, but I had to ask. I just want you to be happy."

"I know that, Mac. And thanks for watchin' out for me. But I promise you, this time it's all good."

XXXXX

Twenty-four hours later, MacGyver stood at the front of a small but famous Las Vegas wedding chapel wearing a dark suit and banded collar shirt. Jack stood next to him in a powder blue tuxedo with matching ruffled shirt and bow tie wearing a grin that had been plastered on his face since they left the hotel.

"You got the ring?" Jack whispered through clenched teeth without losing his smile.

"Yes, I've got the ring," Mac assured him, but surreptitiously checked his pocket, just to make sure.

The only other person in the room was the bride's brother, Frank DuBois, who sat in the front pew looking bored when he wasn't impatiently glancing at his watch as if he had an important appointment to get to. MacGyver sighed, finding it strange and a bit unsettling that no other family members or friends were in attendance. To the best of his knowledge, Nanette didn't even have a maid of honor.

Mac's mind wandered back to dinner the night before where Jack introduced him to the DuBois siblings. Frank had been uptight and silent the entire evening. Mac wished he could say the same for Nanette. Jack's bride was a tall, buxom blonde who giggled easily and chattered constantly about nothing of consequence. MacGyver had smiled and nodded in all the right places, which only encouraged her. Jack, on the other, couldn't tear his eyes away from his beloved bride and was loathe to interrupt her. Later that night, alone in his room, Mac hated to admit, even to himself, how disappointed he was in Jack's choice of a mate. Granted, Jack had enjoyed the charms of a wide array of women in the past, but MacGyver had always assumed that if his friend were to give up his bachelorhood it would be for someone like Joanna. Someone who would be a calm, steadying force in the face of Jack's flights of fancy. A yin for Jack's yang. Perhaps he didn't know his long-time friend as well as he thought.

Loud organ music piped in through speakers in the ceiling and the appearance of 'Wayne Newton' pulled Mac's thoughts back to the present. Moments later, Nanette appeared in the doorway and began her walk up the aisle. Her dress was little more than a long, silky negligee. In lieu of a veil, a rhinestone tiara sat perched upon her bushy blonde head.

"You're _really_ sure about this?" MacGyver whispered to Jack who simply nodded, apparently unable to pull his gaze from the woman in front of him.

Mac bit back a sigh, his eyes settling on the bouquet of flowers Nanette held. He couldn't help wondering what kind of flowers Joanna would choose for their wedding. Roses, though traditionally romantic, were rather common. Would she prefer something more unique like wildflowers or lilies? His stomach did a little flip as he suddenly realized he didn't even know what Jo's favorite flower was. In that case, what was her favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla. He was sure it was vanilla. Or maybe chocolate. Did she even _like_ ice cream? He couldn't recall ever seeing her eat it. But she had to, right? Not that it mattered. He knew _her._ Her heart, her soul. Everything else was trivial...wasn't it? A sharp jab to his ribs broke his revery. His eyes refocused to see everyone looking at him.

"The ring. Now!" Jack whispered urgently.

Mac dug in his pocket and quickly produced the requested piece of jewelry, but the questions he had been pondering hung in his brain like a smoky fog. Once the vows had been said and the proper papers signed, the small wedding party adjourned to Frank's penthouse where he had arranged for a private gourmet meal to be served. While the newlyweds exchanged kisses and whispered sweet-nothings, allowing their food to grow cold, MacGyver tried to strike up a casual conversation with DuBois to no avail. The businessman had just swallowed his last bite of creme brulee when he excused himself on the pretense of being late for a meeting. Painfully aware that his best friend was firmly caught in the throes of wedded bliss, Mac muttered his excuses as well and returned to his own suite a floor below. A bone-deep uneasiness had him reaching for the telephone, dialing a number he new better than his own. He waited impatiently as he listened to it ring, smiling slightly as he imagined Joanna hurriedly delving into the bowels of her purse to capture her cell phone and answer his call.

"Hello?" she breathlessly came on the line.

"Hey, it's me. Did I catch you at a bad time?

"No," she replied, her voice stronger. "I was just getting ready to leave Challengers."

MacGyver glanced at his watch and noted the time difference. "You're putting in a long day," he stated.

She chuckled and his heart warmed. "Actually, Geena and I were talking and we lost track of time. How was the wedding?"

"Fine," he replied flatly.

"Just 'fine'?"

"Well, you kinda had to be there," he explained.

"What about Nanette? What's she like?"

"She's...interesting."

"'Interesting' as in I kinda had to be there?"

"That's one way to put it."

"Mac, is everything okay?"

He hesitated. He could say everything was fine, but then Joanna would know something was definitely wrong. "I just have a weird feeling about this whole thing," he confessed. "I think I'm gonna hang around and check out a couple things tomorrow. I'll catch a later flight."

"Alright."

"You're not gonna argue about this?" he asked cautiously.

"Would it do any good?"

"Nope."

"Then just promise to be careful."

"Always am."

XXXXX

MacGyver had just finished getting dressed the next morning when there was a frantic pounding on his hotel door.

"Hold your horses, I'm coming," he muttered, emerging from the bathroom. He opened the door to find Jack, eyes wide and fearful, clutching a black briefcase to his chest.

"You gotta help me, Mac," he said as he barreled into the room and took a seat on the foot of the bed, still holding the briefcase tight.

MacGyver closed the door slowly and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been with his friend only twelve hours earlier and assumed said friend had spent the remaining time cozied up to his new wife in the honeymoon suite. What kind of trouble had Jack managed to get himself into...and how?

"Alright, Jack. Just relax and tell me what happened."

"I think I know what Frank DuBois is importing-and-or-exporting," he replied in an exaggerated whisper. "Nanette was in the shower this morning when a courier dropped this off for her." He glanced down at the case he was holding. "I put it on the desk but it, um, slid off and fell open." His left eye twitched furiously but he ignored it. "Take a look at this!"

Jack laid the briefcase next to him on the bed and slowly opened it to reveal dozens of what appeared to be flawlessly cut diamonds sparkling against the black velvet lining.

"So Frank's in the jewelry business," Mac stated matter-of-factly, moving closer to examine the gems and the case. "Though you would think he would find a more secure way to transport them."

Jack's jaw dropped as he gaped at his friend. "So you think they're legit?" he asked in disbelief.

"Sure. Why not?" Mac shrugged.

"Why not?! I'll tell you why not! In my past experience a load of loose diamonds in a briefcase usually led to smuggling or payoffs or…"

"Frank was right about you, Dalton," a cold female voice interrupted. "I'm very disappointed in you."

Jack and MacGyver both turned toward the doorway where Nanette stood wearing a black jumpsuit. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a tight bun and she held a small but deadly handgun.

"Now put your hands up and step away from the diamonds," she commanded.

"Pooky Bear, what is this? What's going on?" Jack asked beseechingly.

Mac sighed inwardly and secretly hoped that the woman would refuse to explain herself. The less they knew, the better their chances of getting out of this alive. Nanette appeared to consider the question and then she began talking.

"I suppose you deserve to know, since you're both eventually going to die anyway. Frank isn't my brother, he's my business partner."

"Business partner?" Jack parroted. "You mean, there's no dead father? No inheritance?"

"Hardly," she spat. "Up until a few months ago, we ran this nice little operation where we delivered stolen jewels to arms dealers who then used them to buy guns for rebels in Central America. Of course, Frank and I were paid quite nicely for our services. Unfortunately, our trusted pilot suffered a most horrific demise and that's when I had Frank hire you. I thought you were just dumb enough to keep your nose out of our business, and I was right...for a while. Frank started getting nervous. Said he thought you were catching on to our scheme."

"I wasn't! Honest! I'm dumb, just like you said! Ask Mac, he'll tell ya!"

MacGyver looked at the woman innocently. "Oh yeah, Jack's dumb. _Real_ dumb," he confirmed.

"Well, that hardly matters now, does it?" she commented sternly. "Frank wanted to neutralize you immediately, but I convinced him I could make you love me and keep our 'family secret' as it were. We weren't expecting your friend here, so we set up this little test of your loyalty and you failed. You shouldn't have opened the briefcase, Jack."

"But why the brother/sister act?" Jack asked.

"In our line of work, you can't be the same person for too long. Besides, we thought we'd look more trustworthy. You did buy it after all, hook, line, and sinker."

"So what happens now?" Mac asked as Jack stood paralyzed beside him.

"Why, we're going on our honeymoon, of course!" Nanette answered, grabbing the briefcase with her free hand. "Now, we're all going to go downstairs and out to the limo. If you attempt to escape or draw any undue attention to us, I will kill you both. Understand?"

Jack and MacGyver followed Nanette's instructions and soon the limousine arrived at the airport where they had landed two days ago. Jack's plane was on the tarmac, ready for boarding. Nanette herded the two men out of the car and towards the Cessna, gun trained on their backs

"You got a plan, right buddy?" Jack whispered.

"Not at the moment," Mac whispered back.

"Then what are we gonna do?" the pilot asked, voice rising an octave.

"We'll think of something," his friend replied nonchalantly. "In the meantime, try to keep your _wife_ from shooting us."

After Jack executed a textbook take-off, Nanette reached over his shoulder from behind and handed him a slip of paper.

"Those are the coordinates to our destination," she explained.

"The Caymans?"

"Yes. I have a business meeting there later tonight. And if you stray from the flight plan, I'll kill your friend." Nanette moved to stand behind MacGyver who was in the co-pilot's seat and leveled her gun at the back of his head.

Mac was keenly aware of Nanette's presence and figured this was going to be a long six hours...less if she decided he was an expendable tag-along. He needed to get her talking.

"So, where's Frank?" he asked.

"He had some business in the States to attend to," she supplied succinctly.

"Just out of curiosity, how long did you think you'd get away with the marriage charade?"

"As long as it was feasible. Now shut up."

MacGyver obeyed and, staring out the window of the plane, wished that just for once he didn't have to be the one to come up with a plan because at this point, he didn't know where to begin.

Several hours later, Mac glanced over at Jack who had been unusually quiet throughout the trip. He had come up with a couple ideas on how to escape from Nanette and buy them some time once the plane landed, but he was going to need his friend's help. With their kidnapper in the cabin talking to her contact on a two-way radio, now was the time to decide on a course of action.

"Jack," MacGyver whispered just loud enough to be heard. "I think I've got a plan. All we hafta do is-"

"Not now, Mac," the pilot cut him off. "We're almost there."

"Exactly! We're gonna have to move fast!"

Nanette poked her head in the cockpit before MacGyver could say more. She now had a parachute strapped to her back and clear goggles protecting her eyes.

"Okay gentlemen, this is my stop," she declared.

"But we're still a couple miles off-shore," Jack protested.

"That's the whole idea. Now I'm going to be leaving, but don't try anything funny." She waggled a little black box with a toggle switch under their noses.

"Oh, look, she brought her own TV remote control," Jack quipped, finally breaking his silence.

"It's a detonator, Jack," MacGyver informed his friend solemnly.

"Very good," Nanette crooned. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a meeting."

With that, the woman opened the rear door to the plane and disappeared from site. Mac held his breath as he waited for the plane to explode, but nothing happened.

"Maybe she was bluffing about the bomb," Jack commented as if reading MacGyver's mind. "Maybe she really does love me...at least enough to not kill me."

Before Mac could respond, the plane's control panel began to sizzle and spark.

"I'm losing control!" Jack cried. "The steering is locked! We're goin' down!"

MacGyver was already inspecting the damage to the plane. "They must have wired the entire electrical system with small explosive charges that she detonated when she jumped. A plane blowing up in mid-air is a lot more suspicious than one having mechanical problems and crashing into the ocean."

"Nice reasoning Mac, but I don't suppose you have any ideas on how we can survive this in that oversized brain of yours?"

MacGyver tore his attention away from the instrument panel and began looking under his seat. "I don't suppose you have an extra parachute or two lying around?"

"I keep one in the cargo hold in case of an emergency," Jack replied.

"Well I think this would qualify!" Mac called above the whine of the engines as he scrambled to the back of the quickly descending plane and opened the hatch in the floor. He made quick work of stepping into the chute and securing the harness.

"Hey, what about me?!" Jack asked, now standing next to his friend.

MacGyver moved to the open door Nanette had bailed from and turned to Jack.

"You're just gonna have to trust me on this one. Now wrap your arms around me and hang on tight!"

Mac let out a breath as Jack caught him in a tight bear hug. He turned to see the blue of the Caribbean speeding towards them, wondering how he managed to get himself into these situations.

"Here we go!" he yelled as he allowed himself to fall backward, away from the plane and literally into thin air.

After a few moments of free-fall, MacGyver reached for the ripcord and firmly pulled on it, breathing a sigh of relief when the parachute opened and jerked them upward before catching the breeze and gliding gently toward the water.

XXXXX

Late that evening, MacGyver and Jack sat listlessly in the terminal of Owen Roberts International Airport on Grand Cayman Island, both exhausted from the grueling events of the day. Mac held a ticket to take him home to Milwaukee while Jack would be heading back to Los Angeles. Thankfully, the captain of a large, private yacht had witnessed their not-so-graceful splashdown in the Caribbean Ocean earlier that afternoon and the small crew pulled them to safety. Once on board, MacGyver had radioed the proper authorities and Nanette was apprehended shortly thereafter. She was more than eager to share Frank's whereabouts in exchange for leniency, and the FBI was sure to have him in custody before midnight. Perhaps the saddest part of the entire day had been watching Jack's custom Cessna crash and explode on a tiny, uninhabited island.

"How you doin'?" Mac asked, turning to his friend who was staring blankly into the crowd milling about them.

"Terrific. Never been better," Jack grunted.

"Sorry about your plane."

Jack waved his hand as if swatting a fly. "No big deal."

"Did I hear you right?!" MacGyver asked, his eyebrows shooting up under his bangs in surprise. "All you ever wanted to do was own a business flying airplanes!"

"Yeah, well, that dream came true at least for a little while," Jack mumbled.

Mac regarding his friend more closely. "This is about Nanette," he stated, rather than asked.

"I thought she loved me, Mac. I thought I had finally found _the one_ , like you and Joanna. Guess I really messed that up!"

"Jack, look at me," MacGyver maneuvered himself in the molded plastic chair so he faced the pilot. "You did _not_ mess up! You made an honest mistake! If anyone's to blame it's Frank and Nanette. You trusted them. Took them at their word. That's not a bad thing!"

"C'mon, Mac! Look who you're talkin' to! It's me, Jake Dalton, king of scams and schemes and questionable business opportunities. I should have smelled this a mile away. Instead, I walked right into it!"

A disembodied voice came over the intercom to inform them that the flight to L.A. was boarding. Jack reached down and grabbed his well-worn duffel.

"You gonna be okay?" MacGyver asked, his voice laced with concern for his friend.

"Pffft! I'll be fine!" Jack declared with renewed vigor as he rose from his seat. "I wasn't meant to be tied down with a wife and kids anyway. I got some insurance money comin' to me and Dalton Air Limo Service will be up and flyin' in no time. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything, Jack."

"The next time I'm standing in a wedding chapel it's because you're finally makin' an honest woman outta Joanna!"

"You got it!" Mac smiled and embraced his friend as the final boarding call was announced.


	40. Reevaluations

**Reevaluations**

It was the wee hours of Monday morning when MacGyver pulled his Jeep into the driveway. A pang of disappointment ripped through him when he saw his apartment shrouded in darkness. Nevertheless, he slowly opened the front door and quietly crossed the threshold, his eyes immediately seeking out his couch. But the blanket-covered form of Joanna he hoped to find was not there. Neither was the sight of Frog lumbering toward him to welcome him home. His hope dimmed but not extinguished, he silently climbed the stairs to find his bed, bathed in moonlight, as empty as the day he had left. He sighed and jammed his fingers through his hair, chiding his selfish thoughts. Joanna had spent the weekend at Challengers, covering for him, no less, and she deserved a good night's sleep in her own bed before returning to teaching after a full week off. Besides, after several years and hundreds of missions, he had most always returned to an empty house without thinking twice about it and often relished the solitude it afforded him to rest and refuel. But after having met and fallen in love with Jo, she had come to fill a spot in his life he didn't realize was empty and a hole in his heart he had kept hidden for too long. Much to his own surprise, he found himself longing for the day when she would become his forever.

A loud, rhythmic pounding pulled MacGyver from a dreamless sleep early the next morning. He looked at his alarm clock and groaned. He had only been asleep for four hours. The pounding continued and Mac pushed himself off his bed which he had fallen into the night before, still fully clothed. He grabbed a light-weight jacket and stepped outside to find Charlie, his landlord, and a man in a suit chatting amicably next to a large wooden sign. The two men soon shook hands and the stranger headed toward a sedan parked on the street.

"Hey Charlie! What's goin' on?"

"Hiya Mac! I didn't want you to find out like this, but you're a hard man to pin down! I've decided to sell the townhouse."

"What?!"

"My son-in-law got a new job back East. My daughter and grandkids are the only family I got so they invited me to go live with them. Since I ain't gettin' any younger and don't care to travel, I figured what the heck! Besides, I can't take care of this place like I used to."

"I'm sure gonna miss ya, Charlie," MacGyver replied, putting his hand on the older man's shoulder.

Charlie grunted with a hint of laughter. "Ya mean your gonna miss the low rent I've been chargin' ya!"

"I didn't mean-" Charlie held up his head, cutting Mac off mid-sentence.

"Don't worry, son. When this place sells I'm puttin' a clause in the contract that your rent stays the same until it's time to renew your lease. You've been a good tenant and even better neighbor. It's the least I could do."

"Thanks Charlie," Mac said before the two men returned to their respective sides of the duplex.

A few hours later, MacGyver was sitting in his office at Challengers, mulling over Charlie's decision to sell the townhouse when Cynthia knocked sharply on his door. She entered before he could issue an invitation.

"Thank goodness you're back! We need to discuss Phoenix's six-month review of Challengers!"

Mac glanced at his desk calendar. He had the day circled in red. March twenty-third, the one-year anniversary of the club...and his birthday.

"Relax. We've got two whole weeks to prepare," he observed.

"That's just it!" Cynthia replied, her voice laden with anxiety. "I was just notified that the date's been moved up to this Friday!"

That got his attention. "What?"

"How will we ever be ready in time?"

Mac had never seen his long-time friend this anxious. He edged out from behind his desk and put his hands firmly on Cynthia's shoulders, hoping to reassure her.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. This place is running like a well-oiled machine and you and Joanna have the books up-to-date so there's nothin' to worry about, right?" MacGyver reasoned.

"That's what we thought last time and they cut our funding," Cynthia countered.

"That was a budget issue on Phoenix's end, it had nothing to do with Challengers itself."

"I suppose you're right," his friend and mentor sighed. "But you'll make sure Joanna is here as well? We need to make a strong showing regardless."

"I'm sure she wouldn't miss it. Now just relax."

The rest of the day dragged on for MacGyver as Cynthia's concerns niggled at his brain. Feeling restless, he did several walk-throughs of the building searching for areas that could use some extra cleaning or light maintenance, but found none. The place was as ready as it would ever be. He then closeted himself in his office with the ledgers to make himself as familiar as possible with all the financials of the last six months. The numbers began to blur and Mac rubbed his eyes. Looking up, he discovered it was late afternoon and Joanna was walking toward his office. He stood up, stretched out the kinks in his neck and back, and met her in the doorway.

"Welcome back," she greeted him with a smile and quick kiss on the lips. "I thought you'd call when you got home."

"I got in pretty late and didn't want to wake you," he explained as Jo settled herself in a chair across from his.

"So how was the rest of the weekend? Did you find out anything more about Jack's new wife?"

MacGyver plopped down in his chair with a sigh. "Do you want the long version or the short?"

"Oh wow! Is Jack doin' okay?" she asked when he concluded telling her about the events of the past couple days.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged. "He seemed fine when I left him at the airport."

Jo frowned. "Maybe you shoulda gone back with him to L.A. for a couple days, just to make sure."

"Aw, don't worry about Jack," he said lightly. "He's probably already knee deep in a scheme to buy a bigger and better plane. Besides, it's lucky I got back when I did." He glared pointedly at the books laid out in front of him.

"What's going on?" Joanna asked, her brow creased with confusion.

"Cynthia got word today that Phoenix needed to move up our review to this Friday. They didn't say what time they're coming so I was hoping you could take the day off to be here for it."

Jo lowered her eyes and Mac's stomach did a funny little flip...and not the good kind. "What is it?" he asked.

"I was told today that Mrs. Varga needs to meet with me Friday to do my annual review. Since it's only my first year there I really can't ask her to reschedule."

"Well, what time is it at? Maybe we could work around it?"

Joanna bit her lip and his stomach rebelled once more. "I don't know for sure. She said it would either be during my morning prep period or after school." She finally raised her eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Mac, but I can't be here Friday. But you'll do great! Cynthia knows more than I do anyway and the club has been doing well. You don't need me."

"I'll always need you," he replied softly, "But I also can't ask you to put Challengers ahead of your job. It's just a case of crummy timing so it's no use worrying about it. I hope your own review goes well."

"Thanks," she replied with a gentle smile.

XXXXX

"I'm sorry, Mr. MacGyver, but I must say I'm very disappointed with what I've seen here today and I can't, in good conscience, recommend that The Phoenix Foundation continue funding your club."

"What?!" Mac exclaimed as he shot out of his chair. He probably would have shot straight through the ceiling had Cynthia not reached across his desk and put a staying hand over his.

Two hours earlier, Mr. Matthews had flashed his ID and introduced himself as a Phoenix representative. Of Mac's approximate age and height, the similarities ended there. Sporting a three piece suit, a too-short haircut, and a too-tight necktie, Mr. Matthews had proceeded to pour over the ledgers before inspecting every nook and cranny of the old building. Afterwards, he spoke with Geena, Rosie, and some of the other adult volunteers as well as some truant teens, most likely homeless, taking advantage of the services the club offered. He then had requested to speak privately to MacGyver and Cynthia once it was established Joanna would not be putting in an appearance.

"Challengers is simply not meeting our expectations. You've been operating for a year now yet have little to show for it."

"That's not true!" Mac protested. "We have a growing number of volunteers as well as members and we're now able to stay open around the clock and act as an emergency shelter for teens or anyone else, for that matter. We've made significant progress!"

"The Phoenix Foundation is not in the habit of funding what amounts to little more than a daycare center. If you want our continued financial support, Challengers needs to be more active in the community. You should have a variety of structured, educational opportunities for after school as well as be initiating outreach programs to include the surrounding neighborhoods, not just be a haven for bored juveniles to spend a few hours playing video games until their parents get home from work."

"There's a lot more going on here and you know it!" MacGyver insisted. "Besides, if Phoenix refuses to fund us, how can you expect us to implement the types of activities you expect?"

Matthews sighed heavily. "The best I can do is recommend that you receive the same amount of funding as last time for six more months and then we'll conduct another review."

Instinctively knowing this was the best outcome he was going to get, MacGyver capitulated. "Thank you, Mr. Matthews. We will give serious consideration to the improvements you've suggested."

Once Matthews had left, Mac and Cynthia collapsed onto a tattered couch in the rec room. Both of them exhausted and frustrated.

"You know he's not wrong," Cynthia stated after several moments of silence.

"I know," MacGyver groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Back in L.A. we had all sorts of programs from teaching kids self-defense to learning about and improving the environment. Matthews is right. We're nothing more than glorified babysitters."

"Please tell me I didn't hear you say what you just said," Geena called as she strode purposefully across the room toward them. "In the short amount of time I've been here I can see that Challengers has been a godsend to these kids and the community. Don't let Phoenix bully you into anything!"

"Cynthia's right," Mac told Geena. "We need to be doing more. It's my fault. I shoulda seen it. Taken more initiative to set up opportunities for the kids to grow and get involved in the world outside these walls."

"Running a club like Challengers isn't easy," Cynthia said with a knowing smile.

"I don't know how you and Booker did it. I respect you guys now more than ever."

"There's no magic formula, Mac," Cynthia assured him. "All you need is a lot of determination and a lot of love."

"Speaking of love," Geena interrupted, "Joanna just pulled into the parking lot."

Cynthia's face immediately brightened. "Oh Mac, Joanna will be a great help! She'll be on summer vacation in a couple months and I'm sure she'll have some wonderful ideas to help grow Challengers. Maybe she can even get some of the other teachers to pitch in!"

MacGyver's heart lightened. Things always seemed better with her around. He was so used to going through life on his own, if felt good to share the burdens and triumphs with someone else. Someone he loved. How he had missed having her by his side these last several weeks. But, as Cynthia pointed out, she'd be back soon enough and together they would be a formidable team. For now, however, the anxiety must have still shown on their faces as Jo stopped short when she entered the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked warily. "Did something happen with the review?"

Mac approached her and put a guiding hand on the small of her back. "Let's go into my office."

Once settled in his desk chair with Joanna seated across from him, he detailed the events of the day including the discussion she had just missed. A lump formed in his throat when she looked up at him, her eyes sad.

"I had my meeting with Mrs. Varga today," she said quietly as MacGyver mentally kicked himself for not remembering. "She really likes me and said a lot of good things. She offered me a full-time position in the fall and would like me to teach summer school."

Mac felt as if he'd just been sucker punched. "You turned her down, though. Right?"

"I told her I'd think about it," she replied, lowering her eyes.

"But I thought you preferred teaching part-time and working summers here?"

"I did. I mean...I do. It's just that it's a really generous offer and I couldn't just tell her 'no'. I have to show that I'm a team player otherwise she might not want be back at all."

"You just said she really liked you," Mac said, confusion furrowing his brow.

Jo sighed. "A school is just like a business. No matter how much anyone likes you, you're still not indispensable. Teachers who take on more responsibilities are simply more valuable."

Mac scrubbed his face with his hands and tried to order his jumbled thoughts. "Look, it's been a long week for both of us. Whaddya say we go to my place, order some pizza, watch some hockey, and forget about life for awhile?"

His muscles relaxed a fraction as Joanna's lips curved in a small smile. "Sounds like a plan."

An hour later, MacGyver pulled into his driveway with Joanna on his tail. He watched as she climbed out of her Chevy and stared at the 'For Sale' sign on his lawn.

"So, this is new," she observed. "When were you gonna tell me about it?"

"I'm sorry, baby. With everything going on at Challengers I forgot. Charlie decided to sell the place and move East with his family. He told me about it on Monday." And this was Friday. How had over a week passed without Joanna coming over to his place?

"That's too bad. I'm gonna miss him," she said sadly, brushing past him on the way to the front door.

Once dinner had been consumed, MacGyver pulled Joanna down beside him on the couch just before the third period face-off. Unlike other evenings, when her very body seemed to melt into his, she was tense and hesitant.

"What's wrong?" he asked, gently kneading her tight shoulder muscles.

"I guess it's just all the stress from this past week," she replied.

"Let's see what we can do about that," he muttered huskily, leaning forward to kiss the tender skin behind her left ear. He heard her sigh and couldn't help but smile. But he soon scowled as the ringing phone broke the peaceful moment.

"Let the machine get it," she murmured.

His response was to shift his attention to the right side of her neck, a smile tugging at his lips once again. The machine beeped. "Dad, pick up if you're there." It wasn't a request, but a command. MacGyver groaned and leaned his forehead against the back of Joanna's head.

"Dad!"

"You better get that," Jo said, pulling away. But the words were hardly out of her mouth before her cell phone began to chime from its place on the coffee table. She scooped it up, glanced at the caller ID, and pointed to the stairs, indicating she would take the call in the bedroom, presumably for privacy.

"Daaad!"

MacGyver grabbed the cordless receiver. "What is it, Sam?!"

"Geez, why're you so upset, Dad?"

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to stay calm...and civil.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"You could say that," MacGyver ground out. "Now what's up?"

"Rebecca's mad at me and I need your advice."

"My advice? Make her unmad at you."

"How do you suggest I do that?"

MacGyver looked longingly up at his lofted bedroom. He was finally alone with Joanna for the first time since before Spring Break and here he was giving relationship advice to his son.

"Well, whatever you did to make her mad in the first place, do the opposite."

"Dad, would you be serious?" Sam scolded. "Besides, I don't think I did anything wrong."

Mac sighed, resigning himself to the fact that this was going to be a longer conversation than he had hoped. "Okay. Tell me what happened."

"A couple nights ago I stayed late at the Tribune to catch up on some work. There was another photojournalist there and we knocked off at the same time. We decided to grab a quick dinner before going home, but we got talking and lost track of time. When I got back, Becca was waiting in my apartment, mad as a wet hen."

"Look, she was probably just worried about you. Why didn't you just apologize?"

"I tried, but…" Sam's voice hung heavy on the line and Mac suddenly heard what his son wasn't telling him.

"Sam, please tell me this other photojournalist was a guy."

"I can't. 'Cause she wasn't. But it's not like Becca and I are exclusive or anything! I'm not like you were, Dad. I haven't had a chance to do a whole lot of dating. And it was just dinner. I don't get what the big deal is?"

"Then talk to Becca. Listen to what she has to say and admit that you were wrong."

"But I don't think I _was_ wrong, Dad!"

"Just trust me on this."

"Sheesh, you're no help," Sam grumbled before hanging up without so much as a good-bye.

Mac plopped down on the couch and looked at the TV screen. Calgary was down by two goals midway through the third and final period. Terrific. Could anything else not go right tonight?

"Do you have any idea what your son just did?!" Joanna called accusingly from where she was descending the stairs. Mac's chin dropped to his chest and he sighed.

"Does this have anything to do with him having dinner with a fellow photojournalist?"

"A _female_ photojournalist! That was Rebecca and she's devastated. Sam cheated on her!"

MacGyver pushed to his feet and spun to face Jo. "What?! All they did was have dinner together! Sam said he and Becca aren't even going steady so what's the harm?"

"What's the harm?!" Mac winced as Joanna's voice rose. "Becca's falling in love with him and he's out running around with other women!"

"Wait a minute! First of all, one meal does not constitute 'running around'. Second, Sam has spent most of his life just trying to survive. It's only natural for him to want to date around a bit. And third, Becca's too young and inexperienced to know what real love is!"

Joanna visibly bristled and MacGyver knew he had crossed a line somewhere. When she next spoke, her low, calm voice caused the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

"Are you saying that just because you assume Becca hasn't been in any serious relationships that she doesn't know her own feelings?"

"Yeah. I guess I am," MacGyver replied, jamming his fingers through his hair. This conversation was going from bad to worse.

"Then what about me?" Jo asked, her eyes locked with his.

"What about you?"

"I've never been in a serious relationship before but you believe I love _you_."

"That's different!" Mac objected.

"How?" she challenged. "How is it different? Maybe you were right in the first place. Maybe I'm like Becca and don't know my own feelings because _I_ haven't spent the past twenty-odd years 'gaining experience' like some people in this room!"

Joanna was clearly spoiling for a fight and all Mac wanted to do was turn back time to before Sam and Becca's phone calls. Reaching out, he placed his hands firmly on Jo's shoulders. To his relief, she didn't try to shrug them off.

"Listen. We've known each other for what, three years? Think of everything we've been through together during that time, both good _and_ bad. You are a mature, intelligent woman who definitely knows her own mind. I love you and I know you love me. Or am I the one who doesn't know his feelings?"

Joanna lowered her eyes and scowled. "I hate it when you get all logical and reasonable," she muttered. "And I especially hate it when you're right."

"Are we okay then?"

"Yeah, we're okay."

"Can I kiss you senseless now?" he asked.

"You'd better," she replied with a sly grin and that was all the encouragement he needed.

XXXXX

The coming days passed innocuously enough as everyone settled back into their normal routine. MacGyver made a point of chatting with Challenger members and volunteers to get a feel for the types of programs and activities that would be of most interest and spawn the most participation. With the snow steadily melting and the promise of spring in the air, this was the perfect time for a community clean-up initiative. Joanna also spent more time at Challengers as well as with Mac either at the club or his place. She was still struggling with Mrs. Varga's offer of a full-time teaching position, but MacGyver had stopped asking if she had made a decision once his queries became met with squinty-eyed glares. They both continued to field calls from Sam and Becca, but had agreed to present a united and neutral front to encourage the younger couple to work things out on their own as well as save themselves from projecting the drama onto their own relationship.

The following Sunday, Joanna sat on MacGyver's couch, her legs curled underneath her as she leaned against him, sharing a bowl of popcorn as they watched one of the final hockey games of the season. Much to Mac's dismay, the Calgary Flames' season would soon be coming to an end with no playoff hopes in sight. He had just shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth when Jo snuggled closer and looked up at him with a sweet smile she tended to save for special occasions.

"Do you know what tomorrow is?" she asked innocently.

"Monday?" he mumbled with his mouth full.

"What else?" she prodded.

He held back a smile of his own as he knew what she was trying to get at, but not before he had a little fun first. "Mmm, the first anniversary of the grand opening of Challengers?"

She chuckled and slapped him playfully on his jean-clad thigh. "No! It's your birthday!"

"Oh really? I forgot all about it," he replied, failing to contain the grin spreading across his face.

"Now, I know you don't like surprises or presents, but I was thinking we could get dressed up and go out to a fancy restaurant for a nice meal to celebrate. How does that sound?"

"Depends," he replied, nuzzling the curve of her neck. "What's for dessert?"

"Ice cream," she whispered huskily.

"Count me in."

XXXXX

MacGyver was shrugging into his sport jacket when Joanna walked through his front door at six o'clock on the dot Monday evening.

"Ooh, a tie. I'm impressed," she declared with a saucy grin as she took inventory of him from head to toe.

"Well, I figured since it was a special occasion and all...Besides, you don't look half bad yourself."

Beneath her unbuttoned dress coat, Jo had donned a modest yet flattering black knit dress that she accessorized with a chunky gold necklace and matching earrings. Her soft brown eyes were enhanced with tastefully applied make-up, and her wine-colored lips had MacGyver wishing they had decided to stay in for a cozy dinner instead.

"Where to?" he asked, grabbing his keys from the hook beside the door.

"Oh, no," she scolded gently, plucking the keys from his hand and returning them to their proper place. "I'm driving and it's a surprise. Trust me on this, Mac." And oddly enough, he did.

Twenty minutes later, Joanna pulled up to the canopied entrance of a small gourmet restaurant in downtown Milwaukee. She relinquished the coupe to a valet before giving her name to the maître de who proceeded to guide them through the dimly lit dining room. Mac's eyes fell upon a table for two tucked away in a corner, but Joanna continued to follow the man to a larger table where another couple sat, their backs to him. He gently grabbed the back of her dress to halt her progress.

"Where's he taking us?" Mac whispered in her ear. She only straightened her spine, held her head high, and continued to follow the man who had now come to a stop beside the already occupied table.

The maître de pulled out a chair and Joanna smiled her thanks as she sat down. MacGyver was about to protest when he suddenly recognized the man and woman seated across from them.

"Nikki? Bannister? What're you doin' here?!"

"We're here to celebrate your birthday," Craig said, rising to embrace Mac in a manly hug...if there was such a thing. Nikki was next to greet him.

"We had some meetings at the Phoenix branch in Chicago this past weekend and have a few hours until our flight. We called Joanna earlier this week and asked her to set this up," Nikki explained.

"Well, it's great to see you guys," Mac said, smiling widely as he settled into his well-cushioned chair.

"We also have another surprise," Nikki said, glancing shyly at Craig. "We're married!" She held out her left hand to show off her gold band as proof.

"What?! No way!" MacGyver exclaimed. "You said you were gonna take it slow!"

"That's what we had planned," Craig shrugged. "But a couple months ago Nikki was on a mission that really went south in a hurry. We decided that in our line of work you have to make the most of every moment you're given so why waste time? What's keepin' you guys from pulling the trigger?"

Mac felt Joanna stiffen beside him. He slipped his hand under the tablecloth and rested it on her thigh, giving her a comforting squeeze.

"Some of us actually follow the plans we set," he replied.

"Since when, Mr. Improvisation?!" Nikki scoffed.

"That's always bugged you, hasn't it?" MacGyver playfully replied. "Remember our first official assignment together?

Nikki rolled her eyes. "How could I ever forget?" she groaned, before turning to Joanna and launching into the story. "So Pete drags me all the way to Zurich to meet up with MacGyver who's in some stupid hot air balloon rally with this little Swiss miss. What was her name? Helga? No. Hilga? No. Heidi! That's it! H-e-i-d-i...Heidi! Anyway, a top-secret prototype military plane had crashed in East Germany and Pete thought it would be easier for Mac to cross the border if we posed as newlyweds on our honeymoon. MacGyver, of course, was totally against it because it was an actual _plan_. But it's a good thing I was there 'cause I ended up saving his life!"

"Whoa, wait a minute! You did _not_ save my life!"

"Yes I did! And I nearly lost mine to hypothermia climbing that stupid mountain to warn you that the bad guys were on your tail!"

"Okay, fine! I'll give you that one. But who got us out of the country without getting killed?!"

"I can give credit where credit is due," Nikki replied, once again turning to Jo. "Can you believe this one used supplies from an abandoned barracks to make an honest-to-goodness hot air balloon? It worked great, too, until we ran out of fuel. Then he decided to lighten the load which included me!"

"You were the only one wearing a parachute!"

"And who gave it to me?!"

"Time out, you two," Craig interrupted with a laugh. "MacGyver wouldn't have even been there if I hadn't rescued him while he was still with the DXS."

Mac groaned and leaned back in his chair as he watched Bannister gear up to tell the tale.

"He had just finished a mission in East Germany," Craig began, "and had the cops on his tail when I pulled up in a _borrowed_ police car. Everything was going fine until they started firing at us. One of the bullets hit the brake line. I tried everything to slow us down, but nothing worked. Then Mac gets this idea to pump the power steering fluid into the brake cylinder. Thing is, we're going down this winding hill at over eighty-five miles per hour! He tells me to pop the hood and the thing goes flyin' off! Then he climbs out the window, does his thing, and voila! Suddenly we have brakes!" He turned his attention back to MacGyver. "Those were the good ole days, hey buddy? Guess you don't get much of a chance to do that kinda stuff anymore, huh?"

"No. And I'm not complaining," Mac assured him.

"That's too bad," Craig said, his voice now serious. "After we got married, Nikki decided to take an assistant director position at the Foundation so she wouldn't have to travel as much. I'm in dire need of a top notch foreign operative and I can't think of a better man for the job."

"I can't Bannister. My life is here now."

"Aw, c'mon, I know you gotta miss the job at least a little. And I'm sure Joanna wouldn't mind moving out to L.A. where it's sunny and warm all year round."

"No way! I'm done!" MacGyver insisted. "Besides, even if I wanted to come back I probably still couldn't pass concussion protocol."

It appeared that Craig was about to mount a protest when the alarm on his watch sounded. He looked down and frowned. "Wow, time really got away from us! I hate to cut the evening short, but if we don't leave now we'll miss our flight."

Everyone at the table rose to say their goodbyes. Mac shook Craig's hand as he patted him on the back before giving Nikki a hug and kiss on the cheek. Bannister gave Joanna a light hug before Nikki squeezed her tight.

"It was great to finally meet you in person! I'm so glad MacGyver finally found someone to love," she told Joanna. "I hope you know what a great guy you have here. No matter what I might've said tonight, he really is a very special man."

Just as Craig and Nikki took their leave, a waiter appeared at the table.

"Can I get you anything for dessert?" he asked.

"I don't suppose you have any ice cream?" Mac ventured.

"Only in the baked Alaska, sir," came the haughty reply.

XXXXX

Joanna was unusually quiet during the ride home. When she entered his apartment, instead of tossing off her coat and kicking off her heels like usual she simply walked over to the kitchen table and perched on the edge of one of the wooden chairs. Setting the small carton of strawberry ice cream they had picked up at a nearby convenience store, MacGyver figured she had simply been a bit overwhelmed at dinner.

"You sure you don't want any?" he asked her as he scooped the ice cream into a bowl.

She shook her head. "I prefer vanilla."

"I told you we could've gotten both."

"That's okay," she replied softly.

Something was obviously wrong and Mac was determined to get to the bottom of it, but he couldn't help glancing at his answering machine as he made his way to the table. He frowned when there was no blinking light indicating a missed call.

"What's the matter?" Joanna asked.

Mac sat down across from her and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I've been calling Jack all week and haven't been able to get a hold of him and he hasn't called back. I'm getting worried."

"You know Jack," she replied, her eyes softening. "He's probably already got a new plane and is off on some grand excursion somewhere."

"You're probably right," Mac sighed, wishing he was as certain as Jo seemed to be.

"Maybe you should go out to L.A. and check on him if you're really that concerned," Joanna suggested.

MacGyver looked up and caught her gaze. That certainly came out of the blue! So had the empty, hopeless look in her eyes.

"What's going on with you?" he asked. "You were quiet all during dinner and haven't been yourself since."

"I think it's time you go home, Mac," she told him flatly, without emotion.

"I _am_ home," he replied, reaching across the table to take her hand which she promptly pulled away.

She slowly shook her head. "You may think that now, but you belong back in Los Angeles with your friends and the Phoenix Foundation."

"What are you saying?" Mac's head began to spin and he felt as if he might lose his supper.

"I saw the way your eyes lit up when Craig asked you to go back. It was only for an instant, but it was there."

"I don't wanna go back! Besides, like I told Bannister, I probably couldn't pass the physical."

"Don't you see?" Joanna said, her voice growing stronger. "That's what brought you here in the first place and the reason you decided to stay."

MacGyver jammed his fingers through his hair in both frustration and fear of where this conversation was leading.

"I may have come here on an assignment, but I stayed because I fell in love with you."

"Mac, guys like you don't fall in love with girls like me. At least not for the long haul. You need to be out saving the world with a paperclip and gum wrapper," Jo said sadly. "You were lonely and I was available. It's as simple as that."

"C'mon, you know that's not true!" MacGyver protested urgently. "Where is all this coming from?"

"Tonight, watching you with Craig and Nikki and listening to their stories, I realized there is so much I don't know about you."

"It doesn't matter! That's ancient history! You know everything that matters."

"And it's not the first time I've felt like that," Joanna confessed.

Mac was truly at a loss for words now. He watched as her eyes scanned the room refusing to meet his.

"Sometimes when I look at you I'm overwhelmed by what an incredibly strong, handsome, confident man you are and can't even begin to imagine all the places you've been and the experiences you've had. I don't know how you could ever be happy with a plain, naive girl like me who's lived in the same city...the same _house_ all her life. You don't deserve to be saddled with me. You should be with someone like Nikki. Someone who's shared similar experiences and won't hold you back."

MacGyver leaned forward, closing the space between them. "I don't want someone like Nikki. I want _you_. I love _you_. I proposed to _you._ And you accepted because you love me, too."

"I was wrong to agree to marry you and I'm sorry. You were right when you said there's no way I could know what real love is."

"I did _not_ say that! And just for the record, before I met you, I didn't know what real love was either! Yes, I've been with a lot of women, but none of them ever made me feel the way you do. I always thought I was afraid of commitment because I was afraid of losing someone I loved. Now that I have you, I know I was afraid to commit to anyone else because somewhere deep down I knew it wasn't right. I know my feelings for you, Joanna, and I know they're not gonna change. And if they do, they're only gonna get stronger and better. Don't ever question that."

Tears pooled in Jo's eyes but her jaw remained set. "I'm sorry, Mac. I want to believe you. I really do! But there's this part of me that just can't see a future for us. I feel that by me marrying you I'd somehow be taking away a part of what makes you so special, and I can't do that. I don't want to do anything that would keep you from being you."

MacGyver didn't know what to do. He knew what he _wanted_ to do. He wanted to knock some sense into that hard head of hers. Tell her she was wrong. Convince her that getting married was the right thing to do. He also knew that she was not ready to hear, much less believe, that. He had to be patient. Let her work through whatever she needed to work through.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, his voice raspy from suppressing his own emotions.

"I need time...away from you. I need to think. Figure out where I belong in your life...if I belong in it at all."

"That's why you told me to go see Jack."

She nodded.

Suddenly feeling restless, Mac pushed back his chair and stood up, Joanna following suit.

"Please try to understand," she implored. "There's an old saying that says 'If you love something, set it free'. That's what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to give you the freedom to live the life you deserve."

Struggling to keep his emotions in check he rounded on her, grabbing her hands before she could pull them away.

"That saying goes on to say that 'If it comes back to you, it's yours.' I'll leave for L.A. tomorrow. But know this. I _am_ coming back. And when I do, we are gonna work this out. Together. Understand?"

She nodded and turned toward the door but not before he saw an errant teardrop slide down her cheek. He watched as she got into her car and drove off into the night, his heart shattering into so many pieces that all the duct tape in the world couldn't fix it.

 **A/N: _Dear readers, due to the fact that real life has gotten in the way of my writing, not to mention my characters getting themselves in quite a fix in this chapter, I am putting this story on hiatus until Labor Day 2019. Hopefully a summer free from the pressure of posting every other week will allow my creativity to flow and I can continue to produce quality chapters. Thank you for your faithfulness in reading my story. Even though I won't be posting, I will check back weekly (if not more) to read and respond to any reviews or PM's. If you haven't already, you may want to choose to "Follow" this story so you are notified when I begin posting again. Thanks again for your readership and have a wonderful summer!_**


	41. Saving Jack

_**A/N: Greetings readers and fellow writers! I hope you all had an enjoyable summer. Welcome back to Mac and Joanna's continuing journey as they navigate life, love, and dangerous events that have a knack for finding them! As always, feedback via reviews/private messaging is always greatly appreciated and helps keep me motivated. ENJOY!**_

 **Chapter 41: Saving Jack**

 **March 24, 1998**

MacGyver rested his head on the back of the seat and turned to stare out the airplane's small window. A bright blue sky punctuated with wispy clouds stared back. Less than an hour into the flight, some of his fellow passengers were already snoring softly. Oh, how he wished for peaceful slumber to claim him. Unfortunately, he knew from the long, lonely night before that every time he closed his eyes it would be to see the parting look on Joanna's face. Her empty expression, her tear-filled eyes as she told him she needed time to figure out her place in his life. How could she not see that her place was right beside him forever? But Nikki Carpenter and Craig Bannister had regaled her with tales of his past adventures with the DXS and Phoenix Foundation, causing her to doubt their compatibility. Would his past always haunt him? Would it always get in the way of his future? Not if he could help it. Not this time. He would give Jo the space she needed to think things through and take comfort in the fact that she still wore his engagement ring as a symbol of their commitment to each other. He would go to Los Angeles and confirm that Jack Dalton was alive and well. And then he would return to Milwaukee. Return home. And fight for their love.

Later that afternoon, MacGyver parked his rental car in front of the Hacienda Village Apartments. He strolled up to the wrought iron security gate and scanned the buzzer panel for Jack's name but couldn't find it. Movement in the courtyard caught his eye and he looked up to find a tall, leggy blonde a few yards away.

"Excuse me!" he called. "I'm looking for Jack Dalton."

"Join the club," she replied sarcastically while giving him an exaggerated eye roll. "The rat snuck outta here in the middle of the night owin' me three months' back rent."

"What? Where'd he go?"

"Ya got me, but rumor has it he's been hangin' out at a place called The Wingman Bar. If you find him, tell him I still want my money." The blonde abruptly turned her back and headed toward the building. Conversation over.

Mac slid back behind the wheel of the car, his mind reeling. Up until a few weeks ago, Jack had a lucrative air limo business until one of his regular clients turned out to be an international jewel smuggler and was now in federal custody. What had Jack been doing that caused him to get in the red with his apartment manager? Nothing made sense.

A short time later, MacGyver pulled up in front of The Wingman. It must have been about ten years since he and Jack had come here to find Francine Leyland Dalton, Jack's birth mother who had given her infant son up for adoption. Mac took a deep breath before climbing from the car and making his way to the front door. He crossed the threshold and paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim, smoky interior. The place was empty except for a figure in a bomber jacket and lopsided aviator cap hunched over the bar. MacGyver walked over and took a seat.

"Whatcha doin' here, Jack?"

"Drowning my sorrows. What are you doin' here?"

"Lookin' for you."

"Well, you found me. Now go home." Jack drained the amber liquid from his shot glass and set it down next to a number of others.

"According to _some_ people I _am_ home," Mac muttered, before returning his focus to his friend. "I need to know you're okay and from the looks of it, you're not. What's goin' on?"

"Barkeep, get me refill, and get a carrot juice for my friend here!"

"I went by your apartment," MacGyver said softly.

"Yeah, so?"

"So I wanna know what happened to you!" Mac replied, his patience quickly eroding.

"You wanna know what happened to me?! I'll _tell_ you what happened to me!" Jack spat. "When I got back from the Caymans the FBI raided my bank account. Turns out Frank and Nanette had been passing me funny money all along. Then my insurance company won't pay out...somethin' about crashin' two planes in less than two years. To top it off, Nanette and I were never really married. Even the Wayne Newton minister was a fake. So there you go! That's what happened to me! I'm flat broke and homeless...unless you count this place."

"You've been livin' here?" Mac asked as he surveyed his surroundings with a grimace.

"I've been crashin' up in the office."

"Where's your mom?"

"Who knows? Probably takin' a three month cruise."

"Why didn't you call me, Jack?"

"Why? So you could ride to the rescue and bail me out like you always do?"

"Yeah! That's what friends are for!"

"Not this time, buddy. I'm not draggin' you down with me this time. Go home to Joanna, your dog, and your white picket fence. I'll be fine."

"You call this 'fine'?" Mac countered. "I'm not leavin' til you're back on your feet."

For the first time since this conversation began, Jack caught MacGyver's gaze, giving him a squinty-eyed glare.

"Somethin's goin' on with you, too," the pilot stated. "C'mon, I spilled my guts, now it's your turn."

Mac turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. "Joanna's havin' second thoughts...about me," he confessed quietly.

"Aw, man, I'm sorry," Jack replied, the edge from his voice gone. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I was kinda plannin' on bunkin' with you while she sorts stuff out."

"Mi casa es su casa," Jack quipped, looking pointedly at the glass windows of the 'control tower' facade of the upstairs office.

XXXXX

MacGyver flopped down on the threadbare excuse for a couch while Jack headed to the bathroom. He grabbed the remote and clicked on the television to a national news station.

" _Our top news story this evening takes us to Prince William Sound, Alaska, where an American oil tanker struck the Bligh Reef early this morning causing a massive spill. Coast Guard officials report that the spill has been contained and is considerably smaller than the Exxon Valdez disaster that occurred in approximately the same location nine years ago today. The United States Environmental Protection Agency and several smaller agencies including the Phoenix Foundation in Los Angeles are in the process of mobilizing clean-up crews to send to the area. We will update this story as soon as more information becomes available."_

"Hey Jack! Did ya hear that?!"

"Hear what?" Jack asked, emerging from the smaller room.

"There's been an oil spill near Alaska."

"So?"

"The anchorman said that the Phoenix Foundation is sending some people to help out. I was thinkin' I could give them a call and see if they could use a couple extra volunteers."

"Wait? What? You wanna go to Alaska?!"

"No Jack. I want _us_ to go to Alaska!"

"And leave the warm sunny clime of Southern California? I'll take a pass."

"C'mon, it'd be good for you. For both of us. Ya know, get outta the city, get back to nature, do some good while we're at it. What else have you got goin'? A hot date with a cocktail waitress?"

"Naw," Jack groused. "Even the waitresses here won't go out with me since I found out I'm broke."

"Then it's settled," Mac declared, getting up from the couch and heading to the phone sitting on a battered wooden desk. He dialed the familiar number and waited until a voice greeted him on the other end.

"Hey Willis! It's Mac! How ya doin'?"

"Hi Mac! I'm good. What's up?"

"I just heard on the news that Phoenix is goin' up to Alaska to help out with the oil spill and I figured you'd be the one headin' up the team."

"Sure am!" Willis replied with a pride and confidence in his voice that made MacGyver smile.

"Was wonderin' if you could use some extra help."

"Aw, gee, Mac. I know you care about the environment as much as I do, but I can't ask you to come out to L.A. much less go to Alaska!"

MacGyver couldn't help but laugh. "I'm already in Los Angeles," he informed the scientist. "I'm catchin' up with an old friend and we'd like to join your team if you'll have us."

"That'd be great! We plan to leave at first light. Meet us at the airport. I'll pack some extra cold-weather gear for you."

"Sounds good! We'll be there!" Mac confirmed before hanging up the phone to find Jack watching him, his face contorted as if he had just eaten a very sour lemon.

XXXXX

Early the next morning, MacGyver and Jack arrived at the airport to meet the rest of the team. After everyone had been introduced and boarded the plane, Willis took command of the conversation.

"We'll be flying into Juneau where we will board helicopters to take us to Tatitlek which is approximately a mile and a half from the site of the spill. FEMA is already on the ground setting up a command post. Since there are no motels, FEMA will be providing us with trailers to bunk in for the duration of our stay."

Jack leaned over and whispered to Mac, "No motels? Not a one? What kinda place _is_ this?"

"A very small one, Jack." MacGyver had picked up an Alaskan guide book before leaving Los Angeles. "It's very isolated and only accessible by plane, chopper, or boat. Only about a hundred people live there, give or take, and the majority are Native Americans followed by Caucasians."

Jack looked as if he wanted to say more, but Willis's voice grew louder. "I'll be working with those assigned to clean-up of the actual spill. MacGyver, due to your training and experience in handling biohazardous materials, I'm putting you on wildlife rescue and recovery. Jack, you'll be stationed with members of the EPA and local volunteers to help clean up the surviving animals and birds."

"Will we be doing an investigation into the cause of the spill?" a young Phoenix employee asked.

"Not at this time," Willis replied with authority. "The Coast Guard is classifying it as an accident due to dangerous weather conditions, plain and simple. Our presence is strictly to support clean-up and recovery efforts and advise as needed."

"I thought after the Exxon Valdez incident new protocol was put in place to keep something like this from happening," Mac remarked.

Once again, Willis was right on top of the conversation. "You're right. Tankers must now be guided through the area with at least one Escort Response Vehicle. Unfortunately, a major squall line formed and passed through the area before they could adjust the route. The ERV began the response effort immediately and are to thank for keeping the spill as small as it is."

XXXXX

As soon as the chopper skids touched the tarmac of the Tatitlek airport, everyone grabbed an armload of supplies and bailed out.

"Whoa! Who turned on the air conditioning?!" Jack exclaimed.

MacGyver shot his friend an amused grin. "It's got nothin' on those northern Minnesota winters when we were in high school. You gettin' soft on me?"

Jack scowled and pulled up the collar of his jacket as he followed Mac to a row of black SUV's.

"These'll take us to the high school campus where field headquarters is set up," Willis explained over his shoulder as he walked ahead of them. "We'll get settled and then head on over to the cafeteria for a late lunch that's serving as a mess hall for all personnel. Then we'll go take a look at the spill."

It was a short trek from the airfield to the school. A large, though obviously temporary, structure on the far corner of the campus appeared to be the nerve center of the operation.

"What are those?" Jack asked as they climbed from the vehicle.

"Those are the FEMA trailers you'll be staying in," Willis declared.

"They look like shipping containers!"

Willis chuckled. "They may not look like much from the outside, but the inside is quite adequate. Each unit is outfitted with a bedroom and two twin beds, a small living area, and bathroom with shower. There are two propane tanks that provide fuel for the stove and central heating."

"See, all the comforts of home," MacGyver remarked cheerfully.

"There's also a kitchen area, but you'll probably be either too tired or too busy to make use of it."

"Hence the mess hall," Mac deduced.

Once trailers had been assigned and meager possessions tucked away, the Phoenix group waited in line at the cafeteria. MacGyver held up his plastic tray as a stout woman behind the counter plopped a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes into one of the compartments with a bit more force than necessary. Mac smiled and thanked her only to receive a frown in return. The other servers, all citizens of the small town, were a bit friendlier but still guarded. Granted, they must be upset with the oil spill as well as strangers descending on their land, but everyone was here to help. MacGyver gave a mental shrug and headed for a table.

Upon leaving the mess hall, everyone once again piled into waiting SUV's that took them to the site of the incident. Environmental engineers operated booms and skimmers in an attempt to collect as much oil from the surface of the water as possible. Unfortunately, the rocky, cove-lined shore hampered their efforts. Willis led them to an official looking man in a suit who was holding a clipboard and introduced the Phoenix team.

"Have you been able to determine who was at fault for this accident?" Mac asked as he shook the man's hand.

"Mother Nature," the official replied in a clipped, matter-of-fact tone. At MacGyver's quirked eyebrow he continued, "A storm blew up unexpectedly and threw the tanker and escort off course. The hull of the tanker struck the reef, but if she'd been sitting lower in the water it would've been a lot worse."

This correlated with the explanation Willis had offered earlier, but something about it didn't sit right with Mac. Willis talked to the man for several more minutes before turning his attention to his colleagues.

"I'm gonna stay here and discuss containment and clean-up strategies. Those of you not directly assigned to this aspect of the operation can return to base and wait until morning to receive further instruction."

Back at headquarters, Jack climbed into the trailer he was sharing with Mac and took a nap while MacGyver, not wanting to waste the only free time he might have in a while, commandeered a vehicle and drove into town which was really only a couple blocks long with a limited variety of businesses lining the street. He parked in front of a small grocery store and went inside to collect some staples to keep in the trailer. The cashier at the check-out counter scanned a few items before looking up at him.

"You in town to help with the spill?

"Yeah, I am," Mac replied.

The young woman once again looked down and fixed her attention on bagging his groceries.

"Can I ask you something?" MacGyver inquired.

The cashier shrugged.

"I've only been here a few hours, but I get the feeling we're not exactly welcome. I understand our presence is disrupting the town, but we're only here to help. Is there something I should know?"

This time the cashier looked him squarely in the eye. "We know that, and trust me, we appreciate it. No one is mad at you guys. It's the oil companies we're upset with. Their greed caused this to happen."

MacGyver's senses went on high alert. "What are ya talkin' about?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything," she replied, glancing nervously around the store before taking his payment and sending him on his way.

Mac arrived back at the trailer with just enough time to put his groceries away before heading over to the mess hall with the others. For the second time that day he stood in line, clutching his plastic meal tray. He scanned the line of servers and saw many of the same faces from earlier, now looking more haggard and worn. They must have started preparing for supper as soon as the lunch crowd had been served. Mashed-potato-lady now stood at the end of the line, placing a dinner roll on everyone's tray. When MacGyver came to stand in front of her, he half expected to have the round piece of bread tossed in his face. Much to his relief, the woman placed it gently next to his helping of steamed carrots.

"Thanks!" he offered with a friendly smile. While she didn't smile back, she didn't frown like earlier.

MacGyver, Jack, and Willis lingered over their dinner long after the others had left and the cafeteria volunteers had retreated into the kitchen to clean up and prepare for the following day.

"Has a course of action been decided on?" Mac asked Willis in regards to the oil spill clean-up.

The scientist nodded. "We're going with an air drop of chemical dispersants on the main spill along with a biological agent near the shoreline."

"When's the drop?"

Willis sighed. "Unfortunately, the weather isn't on our side. Conditions need to be near perfect for the chopper to release its load on the bulls eye and that may not happen for a couple more days. In the meantime, we'll continue using booms and skimmers to contain the oil and clean up as much as we can."

"What about me and Mac?" Jack asked.

"An orientation session has been scheduled first thing tomorrow morning with a wildlife rescue expert. Holly will explain what you need to do and you'll get to work immediately. The sooner we get to the affected animals, the better their chances for survival."

An hour before dawn the following day found MacGyver by the back door to the cafeteria waiting for the volunteers to arrive. Somehow it didn't surprise him that mashed-potato-slash-dinner-roll lady was the first to appear, her straight black hair woven into a tight braid that hung far down her back.

"Mornin'!" he greeted her with a friendly smile.

"We don't start serving until sun-up," she replied flatly as she unlocked the door.

"I'm not here to eat. I was hopin' we could talk. About the oil spill."

"I got nothin' to say."

"You and your neighbors don't believe it was an accident," MacGyver ventured.

He watched as her obsidian eyes quickly scanned the area before a slight nod of her head invited him into the kitchen. She turned on the lights and quickly closed the door.

"It was an accident, alright. An accident waiting to happen," she blustered.

"So I've heard. Tell me what's goin' on."

She appeared to deflate before his eyes. "I cannot say anything more. You and your friends get to leave here when your job is done. But me, my family, my neighbors, we must stay."

So, the members of this small community weren't just angry. They were scared.

"Look, I know people," Mac told her. "People who can fix whatever's goin' on here so you don't have to keep secrets anymore."

He held his breath as he waited for her reply. She was just about to say something when voices from outside and the jiggling of the doorknob caused her mouth to snap shut. "You must go now," she said, turning her back to him as she walked away.

XXXXX

Over the next two days, MacGyver donned protective gear from head to toe and headed out with groups of trained volunteers to search for affected wildlife while Jack stayed at headquarters and assisted with cleaning the surviving animals. The slick, rocky shoreline made for slow progress which was further impeded by strong winds and cold, intermittent rain showers. Mac's heart broke a little each time he found a sea bird attempting to flap its oil-soaked wings or a harbor seal struggling to breathe through pollutant-covered nostrils. He tenderly picked the creatures up and cooed to them softly as he placed them gently in carriers to take back to headquarters. His heart broke even more when he encountered those that had not survived and just as gently deposited them in the appropriate containers. At night, Jack would joke about having 'dishpan hands' and MacGyver would chuckle like his friend expected, silently envious that Jack had been spared the sight of so much death and destruction.

When Mac reported for his third day of work, he was pulled to the side by Holly, the wildlife rescue expert who had given the volunteers their orientation.

"Why don't you stay here and help with the cleaning," she suggested, her eyes full of empathy.

MacGyver shook his head. "I'm good."

"No, you're not," she countered. "You've been out there for two days straight. I remember my first rescue and recovery assignments. I could only do a couple hours at a time. Stay here today and bathe the little guys we bring in."

Mac nodded his acquiescence, grateful for the reprieve. He spent the next few hours next to Jack, his hands immersed in hot water treated with a gentle cleaning agent as his fingers coaxed the crude oil from the feathers of various birds unlucky enough to be on or near the shore when the spill occurred. He laughed when some would stretch and flap their newly cleansed wings, spraying him with sudsy water.

It was almost noon when a loud ruckus drew everyone outside. MacGyver caught a glimpse of a man being loaded into the bed of a rusty pick-up truck. Holly stood off to the side, concern marring her otherwise pretty face.

"What happened?" Mac asked her with Jack on his heels.

"Clyde was climbing a boulder to rescue a sea otter when he lost his footing and fell. Looks like his leg is busted. They're taking him to the clinic now."

"Tough break," Jack murmured, earning him a scowl from the woman. "Sorry, it's just an expression," he added defensively.

"I know," Holly sighed, "It's just that Clyde was supposed to fly out our first group of rescues tomorrow. There's a wildlife center in Valdez where they will recuperate until they're ready to go back to their natural habitat."

"Two choppers flew us in. You must have another pilot around here somewhere, right?" MacGyver asked.

Before Holly could speak, Willis answered for her. "Yes, and we need him tomorrow. The National Weather Service is predicting a break in the rain before another system comes in. We'll only have a small window of opportunity to drop the dispersants so we need him here and ready at a moment's notice."

"This temporary site isn't equipped to handle the number of animals we're dealing with, especially not long-term. Already some of the first ones we rescued are showing signs of shock and dehydration," Holly pointed out.

Mac turned to Willis. "You only need one chopper for the drop, right?"

"Yeah," the scientist confirmed with a nod.

"That means we can use the other one to transport the animals," MacGyver reasoned.

"And who, exactly, is gonna fly it?" Holly asked, her voice laden with dejection.

"Jack!"

"Me?!"

"Yeah," MacGyver replied. "You can handle a helicopter just as good as a plane."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Holly exclaimed. "Thank you, Jack!"

"Um, yeah, sure, no big deal."

"We'll halt the rescue operation for today so we can prepare the animals for the trip," Holly declared. "That means you guys can rest up until we have room for the others."

Jack and the other volunteers quickly disbanded and Mac knew now was his chance to do some investigating.

"Hey, Willis. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, I guess," he shrugged.

"Can you get me an oceanic map of the area as well as the latest federal and local rules and regulations for transporting crude oil through Prince William Sound along with shipping logs from the past few months?"

"C'mon Mac," Willis moaned. "You're letting the locals convince you this wasn't an accident?"

"They know it was an accident. I want to know why it happened."

"It was a storm, Mac."

"There's more to it. I can feel it. Will ya help me?"

"Everything you need is in the operations office. Follow me."

MacGyver spent the next several hours poring over the information he had requested. Every now and then, Willis would peer over his shoulder.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I see it," Mac replied.

The sun was dipping toward the horizon and MacGyver was absently eating a sandwich Jack had brought him from the mess hall when suddenly all the data he'd been studying fell into place. He found the cause of the spill and the reason the townspeople were so guarded. He called to Willis who was doing his part to prepare for the chemical drop the next day.

"I got it!" Mac proclaimed.

Willis gazed at the open books and unfolded maps spread haphazardly on a large conference table. "Got what?"

"Everything! C'mere and I'll show you."

Willis pulled up a chair and sat down next to MacGyver who eagerly began his explanation. "The main thing that's been bothering me all along is why the tanker was riding low enough in the water to strike the reef in the first place. After the Exxon Valdez incident, limits were put on how much a tanker could carry to avoid such a collision."

"Go on," Willis prompted.

"These logs," Mac said, waving his hand in their direction. "At first I just found them confusing because the entries didn't match up, but that's because there are actually two sets of them. One gets submitted to government officials. The other one doesn't."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

MacGyver nodded vigorously. "The new shipment limits started hurting big oil companies because they had to cut back on how much they exported as well as ship more often. Somehow they found a way to add to the cargo after it passed official clearance and then offload the same amount before the tanker reached its destination and was once again inspected for compliance to the new regulations. And the citizens of Tatitlek figured it out, but the oil companies are holding something over them to keep them from talking. It all makes sense!"

"You got all that by looking at some maps and shipping logs?" Willis asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Mac replied as if the answer was obvious.

"MacGyver, if you're right about this - and I'm not saying you are - we're talking about a huge operation employing or paying off a whole lot of corrupt individuals possibly as high up as the federal government!"

"I know. That's why we need to be extra careful about who we share these findings with. Is there anyone here you think we can trust?"

"The project manager seems to be on the up-and-up. He appears as concerned as we are. I'll try to get a better feel for him tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Mac confirmed. "In the meantime, this is just between us."

XXXXX

The following morning MacGyver awoke before dawn coughing and struggling to breathe. A putrid odor filled the trailer. He reached across the small space between beds and shook Jack, who was still asleep and snoring, by the shoulder.

"Huh? Wha?" his friend asked, dazed from sleep.

"We gotta get outta here. Now!" Mac instructed urgently.

"What kinda animal crawled in here and died?" Jack asked, wrinkling his nose.

"It's propane," MacGyver explained as he hurried toward the door, opening small windows along the way. Once outside, he ordered Jack to evacuate the neighboring units and call the fire department before heading to turn off the flow of gas, but when he got to the propane tanks, he found the handles missing. A deliberate act. Without a second thought he bobbed and weaved his way through the makeshift trailer park until he found the one he wanted.

"Willis!" he called, pounding on the front door. When it didn't open, he called his colleague's name again while at the same time forcing the door open. The smell of gas was strong so Mac pulled his t-shirt up over his mouth and nose as he quickly searched the trailer, only to find it empty. Once he had opened the windows he went to check the propane tank and found the handles missing as well. He was about to head back to where a small crowd began to gather when he heard someone call to him from the structure serving as headquarters.

"Mac! What's going on?!" It was Willis!

Quickly changing direction, MacGyver headed toward the scientist and told him about the gas leaks as together they strode to where emergency vehicles now surrounded both trailers.

"Are you the one who discovered the gas leak?" the fire chief asked, approaching MacGyver.

"Yes sir."

"It's lucky you woke up and took action when you did. A few more minutes and your trailer would've blown sky high."

Mac nodded, knowing full well the gravity of the situation.

"My men found the handles to the turn-off valves missing from the propane tanks. Any idea who might've done this, or why?"

The chief was certainly straightforward, a trait MacGyver admired. He shot Willis a glance before answering. "No sir. I wish I did."

"The police are on their way to interview everyone. Let them know if you think of something."

As the fire chief returned to where his crew was setting up fans to ventilate the housing units, Mac pulled Willis aside.

"Did you tell anyone about what we discovered last night?" he asked in a loud whisper.

"No! Did you?"

"Of course not! But somehow I have a feeling this is all connected since yours and mine were the only trailers sabotaged."

"Then someone must've been listening to us."

"Yeah, but who?" Mac murmured.

The next few hours passed quickly. Not knowing who to trust, MacGyver kept his interview with a local police officer short and direct. Others seemed to be doing the same. Was _everyone_ paranoid? By noon, the last officials left allowing the focus to return to the oil spill and clean-up effort. Willis wandered off to join the team of environmental engineers in charge of the dispersant drop. Glancing up at the sky, Mac noticed the clouds beginning to give way to the sun and assumed the maneuver would be happening sooner rather than later. Across the way, Holly and Jack were loading cages containing various rescued animals into SUV's. Moments later, MacGyver hitched a ride with them as a parade of the black vehicles headed to the airport. Two choppers waited. One for Jack and Holly to transport the sea birds and animals to Valdez, the other being prepared for the chemical drop over the spill. Not wanting to take up precious room in Jack's helicopter Mac stayed behind with Willis.

"Here," Willis nudged him, shoving a pair of binoculars in his hand. "The pilot's doing his pre-flight now. As soon as he's done, it's go time. We can watch from here."

The two men leaned against one of the cars until the chopper took off. Looking through their binoculars, they watched as the pilot flew in small circles, surveying the situation, before hovering over one spot for several seconds.

"It looks like he's locked on," Willis observed.

Suddenly, gallons of liquid poured from the belly of the helicopter.

"Bull's eye!" Willis exclaimed.

"What happens now?" MacGyver asked, handing his binoculars back to his friend.

"We wait. But I think we acted fast enough to avoid any major damage. In the meantime, maybe we could do a little poking around to find whoever tried to asphyxiate us and blow up our trailers this morning."

"I've been thinking about that," Mac admitted. "I think it would be best if we take the evidence back to Phoenix and launch a thorough investigation through the proper channels. I have a feeling we're in over our heads on this one."

"I suppose you're right," Willis conceded with a frown.

MacGyver grinned. "Don't worry. I'm sure they're gonna need you to take an active role since you've witnessed everything first hand. You're input will be very valuable."

"You think?" the younger man asked, his face brightening.

"I know. Now how about we head back and get some dinner. I'm starving!"

The two lingered in the mess hall well after everyone else had eaten and left. Their trailers had been secured as crime scenes and they were waiting to be rehoused as some volunteers were already rotating back to the lower forty-eight. The locals seemed to have taken pity on them, serving them extra desserts with friendly smiles, but they seemed even less inclined to talk than before. MacGyver couldn't blame them. Even he made an effort to keep his thoughts to himself just in case the walls had ears.

Willis had just finished his third cup of coffee when the main door banged open and Jack strolled through, grinning widely.

"Hola compadres!" he greeted them.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Mac asked with a smile of his own.

"You'll never guess what happened to me," the pilot proclaimed, taking a seat at the table.

"You asked Holly out and she said yes," MacGyver teased.

"Hmmm, that's not a bad idea, but no," Jack replied.

"Then why don't you go ahead and tell us?" Willis urged.

"I, my good men, have been offered a job."

"What kind of job?" Mac asked suspiciously.

"A real, honest-to-goodness one," Jack replied, his left eye completely twitch-less. "An airline charter service in Valdez is hirin' on extra pilots for the upcoming tourist season. They made me a real good offer and I figured what the hey! By the end of summer, I should have enough money to put a down payment on my own plane and I'll be back in business again!"

XXXXX

The following morning, the volunteer group from Phoenix was told that their services, while greatly appreciated, were no longer needed and they could head home. Upon arriving back in Los Angeles, MacGyver and Jack headed to The Wingman Bar to collect the remainder of their belongings. As Jack packed up for his temporary move to Alaska, he appeared happier than Mac had seen him since the wedding debacle in Las Vegas. After parting ways with his friend, MacGyver headed to the Phoenix Foundation where he met up with Willis and together they explained what they had discovered about the oil spill and violations of regulations to the ad hoc committee that had been quickly formed to delve further into the case.

"You go on ahead," Mac told Willis as they left the conference room after sharing all the information and evidence they had. "I'm gonna stop in and see Bannister and Nikki."

"Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"The assignment they were supposed to be working on got pushed back a couple weeks so they decided to take a belated honeymoon."

"Oh," Mac replied, surprised that Willis was privy to this information, but then again, a lot had changed since he resigned. "Well, when they get back tell 'em I'll be in touch, okay?"

"Sure thing. Are you heading back home?"

Willis had no way of knowing that 'home' was a relative term for MacGyver these days. "In a way. I decided to spend some time at Harry's cabin. Ya know, get outta my head for a few days."

"Well, enjoy yourself," the scientist told him.

"Thanks. I'll try," Mac responded.


	42. On Her Own

**On Her Own**

 **March 24, 1998**

"How could you break up with MacGyver?!" Judy Fairfax scolded as her daughter packed a suitcase.

"I didn't break up with him, Ma," Joanna clarified, quickly losing her patience. "I just suggested we take some time away from each other to make sure we can trust our feelings."

"And then you're planning on staying at his place while he's gone?"

"That's right, Mother," Jo huffed.

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Look, I just need some time alone so I can think. Wherever I go, I'm with people. At school, at Challengers, even here at home."

"When is Mac coming back?"

"I don't know. Maybe never. We didn't talk about it," Joanna snapped.

"Seems to me you didn't talk about a lot of things," Judy observed.

Joanna stopped packing and took a deep breath. After leaving MacGyver's the night before, she had pulled her car to a stop a block away and cried her eyes out before heading home where she held it together long enough to inform her parents that she and Mac needed some space and he was going to L.A. to check on Jack. Of course, her mother knew there was more to the story so Jo recounted the dinner with Craig and Nikki.

"They were telling all these stories about Mac's assignments and I felt like they were talking about a stranger," Joanna had tried to explain. After a long, sleepless night of alternately staring at the ceiling and sobbing into her pillow, she went to work as if nothing had happened, stopping at Challengers afterwards to pick up Frog where she learned MacGyver had told everyone he would be gone for a few days while he visited a friend. Of course, Mac's total absence and her brief appearance garnered curious stares from Cynthia, Geena, and Rosie, but she refused to provide further clarification.

"I agree it wasn't exactly my finest hour," Joanna confessed to her mother. "But it's done now." She closed and latched her suitcase before heading downstairs, collecting Frog, and driving to MacGyver's. When she pulled in the driveway his landlord, Charlie, was on the front stoop shaking hands with a man in a suit.

"Have you sold the townhouse yet?" she called to Charlie as she gathered Frog and her belongings.

"No," the older man sighed. "My real estate agent just suggested I drop the asking price."

"I'm sorry," Jo replied sympathetically. "I'm sure it'll all work out."

"Mac didn't mention you'd be staying here," the landlord said, clearly eager to change the subject.

"That's because he doesn't know. Things happened kinda fast."

Charlie studied Joanna who nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another while Frog tugged on his lead, anxious to head into the house.

"What's goin' on with you two anyway?" he asked.

"Mac went to visit-"

"A friend. I know," Charlie replied, cutting her off. "He told me when I drove him to the airport. At least you got your stories straight. If you ever want to talk about what's really goin' on, I'm just next door. Remember that."

Joanna summoned a small smile. "Thanks. I will."

Once inside, Jo unclipped Frog's leash and the pudgy bulldog headed directly to his usual napping spot under the coffee table. He had been spending a lot of time at Challengers and was probably glad for the solitude. Jo inhaled deeply and looked around. Everything was the same as it always was but somehow the space felt incredibly empty without MacGyver there. But that was what she wanted, wasn't it? Annoyed at her melancholy and vowing not to shed another tear over the man, she picked up the TV remote and turned it on to a national news station.

" _Our top news story this evening takes us to Prince William Sound, Alaska, where an American oil tanker struck the Bligh Reef early this morning causing a massive spill. Coast Guard officials report that the spill has been contained and is considerably smaller than the Exxon Valdez disaster that occurred in approximately the same location nine years ago today. The United States Environmental Protection Agency and several smaller agencies including the Phoenix Foundation in Los Angeles are in the process of mobilizing clean-up crews to send to the area. We will update this story as soon as more information becomes available."_

Her heart rate sped up at the mention of Mac's former employer. Would Phoenix recruit him to go help with the spill? No, knowing MacGyver, if he heard this report, he would willingly volunteer for the job. Was he on his way to Alaska even now? Jo shook her head. That was none of her concern at the moment. She was here to see if there was a place for her in Mac's life...assuming he even wanted her in it once he returned. _If_ he returned.

After a late supper of leftover tofu casserole and a promise to go to the supermarket the next day, Jo changed into her pajamas and crawled into Mac's bed. The sheets felt stiff and smelled clean. How many nights did he spend on the couch anyway? Or did he change the linens before he left? He had no way of knowing she would come here. Or did he know her that well? Joanna tossed and turned for an hour before glaring ruefully at the clothes hamper, cursing her traitorous heart.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered as she climbed out of bed and rooted through the dirty laundry to find one of MacGyver's t-shirts. Quest complete, she grabbed the extra pillow laying next to her on the bed and pulled the stretchy material over it. Snuggling back under the covers, she held the pillow close, breathing in Mac's scent as she drifted off into peaceful slumber.

XXXXX

Wednesday morning, Joanna arrived at the high school early as usual and quickly checked her mailbox as was her routine. She was surprised to find a note from Vice Principal Varga asking to see her before classes started.

"I see you got one, too," a rich, deep voice with a hint of amusement said from behind her. She turned toward its source only to find an attractive man looking down at her. About six feet tall, his short yet neatly styled dark brown hair sported natural auburn highlights while his clear, hazel eyes caught and held her gaze. "I guess we were never properly introduced," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Tim O'Brien, one of the social studies teachers."

Placing her hand gently in his, she knew she should offer a firm, professional handshake, but this way just felt..right.

"I'm Joanna Fairfax. You can call me 'Jo'. I teach English." Though by the very simple sentences that had just come out of her mouth one would never know it.

"Oh, so you're in the foreign language department," he teased, his eyes dancing in the fluorescent light.

"I'm afraid my students would agree with you," she laughed lightly while reclaiming her hand. "We should go see what Mrs. Varga wants."

Before either of them could knock on her office door, the vice principal invited them in.

"The bell is going to ring in a few minutes so I'll keep this short. There's a statewide teacher's convention in Madison this weekend focusing on at-risk students. I want the two of you to go."

With this she handed Joanna and Tim each a large brochure.

"It runs all day Saturday and Sunday morning. I've booked you each a room in the hotel where it's being held for Friday and Saturday nights. I figure it best if you drive up Friday after school and I'll give you both Monday off to compensate for your time. I do ask that you try to attend as many separate seminars as possible. I'd like you to report what you learned at our next staff meeting. And Joanna, I'll need your answer regarding your contract when you return. Do either of you have any questions?"

Jo stood speechless. Her head spinning.

"Nope. Everything sounds good," she heard Tim respond confidently.

With a smile and a nod she turned and headed out of the office with the social studies teacher behind her.

"How about we get together during lunch and pick out which presentations each of us should sign up for?" Tim suggested.

"Sure, that sounds fine," Jo responded absently, still trying to process all the information that had been thrown at her.

Joanna had just dismissed her last class of the morning when Tim entered her classroom carrying a bag lunch. They spent the next thirty minutes poring over the brochures Mrs. Varga had given them trying to decide who would attend which seminars. Joanna was surprised at how smooth the process went. Tim was organized, flexible, and easy to work with.

"I was thinking," he ventured, just before the afternoon classes were scheduled to begin. "It doesn't make sense for us to each take our own car. How about we drive up together. I'm always game for a road trip."

"That sounds great! I really don't know my way around Madison and have a penchant for getting lost," Jo confessed.

"Then it's settled," Tim replied, smiling broadly.

Before Joanna could answer, the bell rang and students began to enter the classroom.

That evening Jo curled up on Mac's couch, Frog snoring beside her. She turned on the television, but nothing managed to hold her attention. Her stomach roiled every time she thought of the upcoming weekend. Last minute assignments were a way of life for MacGyver, but she sorely lacked the confidence and spontaneity to deal well with such situations. Feeling restless, she gently rose from the couch so as not to wake the sleeping dog and began to look around Mac's apartment. For all the time she had spent here, she realized she had actually paid little attention to many of his possessions. For instance, the yellow rubber ducky on the kitchen counter. She picked it up and gave it a squeeze. It had been there for as long as she could remember, but why? There _had_ to be a story connected to it.

As she continued to stroll about, she noticed framed snapshots of Mac with Pete or Jack or even Nikki scattered about on shelves and the fireplace mantel. There was even one of him with an elderly gentleman she assumed was Grandpa Harry if the fishing hat was any indication. He also had books. Lots of books. Upon further inspection she noticed his preferred subjects were history, biographies, and just about any type of science you could think of. However, these were juxtaposed with a huge collection of video-taped Westerns and a rather impressive amount of records and a few CD's and, oddly enough, high school yearbooks. Her fingers ached to turn through the pages, but she wasn't ready to read what would undoubtedly be inscriptions of undying love from his former girlfriends. Having made a circuit of the room, she found herself back in the kitchen. She and MacGyver had spent a lot of time here together and she couldn't think of a place that suited him better. And therein lie one of the reasons she had been avoiding marrying him. She loved this apartment as much, if not more, than he did. Never had another place felt more like home to her. But it was small. She glanced up toward the bedroom. Save for a small closet and dresser, there wasn't much storage space. It was fine for a bachelor, but where would her things fit? The apartment didn't even have room for a guest or even a child should they decide to adopt. Yet the idea of living somewhere else seemed unthinkable. Of course, she had never mentioned this to MacGyver. He had traveled and lived all over the world. Surely to him an apartment was simply a place to stow his hockey gear until he decided to move on. Perhaps that was the reason he couldn't commit to buying a house when he had moved to Milwaukee. He couldn't let go of the residue from his earlier transient lifestyle. Was he truly ready to finally put down some roots? But then again, people say home is where the heart is, so if her heart was truly with Mac, shouldn't she feel at home anywhere as long as they were together?

XXXXX

Thursday at noon Joanna looked up from the essay she was grading to find Tim leaning casually against her door jamb, a brown paper lunch bag in his hand.

"I figured since we're spending the weekend together we should get to know each other a little better," he said with a gentle smile.

When she quirked an eyebrow he grimaced. "Sorry, that sounded better in my head."

Jo laughed lightly. "Don't worry, I know what you meant. Pull up a seat."

Over the next half hour, Joanna learned that Tim O'Brien had been born and raised in a suburb of Milwaukee and now owned a home in the city. He had a sister and brother-in-law who had graced him with two nephews he clearly loved. Like her, he had grown up Catholic, attending parochial school until college. He was an avid Green Bay Packer fan and confessed to having only one serious relationship from which, he stressed, he learned a lot and was not about to make the same mistakes twice. If someone had asked Jo to create the perfect guy, before meeting MacGyver, Tim would have very much fit the bill. She had always rued the fact that she was an only child with no nieces or nephews to dote on, especially as time passed and it became clear she would have no children of her own. And, of course, having someone who actively shared her faith was a quality she highly regarded.

"So what about you?" he asked as they tossed the remains of their lunch in the trash. "Rumor in the teachers' lounge says you're engaged."

"Do you always believe everything you hear in the teachers' lounge?" she countered playfully.

"Only the stuff that's true," he replied, then let his gaze land on her modest diamond ring. "So, does that come with a guy or do you just wear it to scare off the weirdos?" He pulled a face causing her to laugh.

"It comes with a guy, for now," she answered softly.

Tim's demeanor turned serious. "Sounds like there's a story in there somewhere."

"It's complicated," Joanna said with a shrug. "He's in Los Angeles right now. We needed some time apart."

The bell signaling the end of the lunch period rang, saving Joanna from Tim's questioning eyes. "Tomorrow? Same time? Same place?"

"It's a date," Jo answered, summoning a smile. Her heart was beating double time as students began to drift into the room. What had she been thinking? First, she flirts with the guy and then she leads him to believe that her relationship is in trouble. Of course, there was a very strong possibility her relationship with MacGyver _was_ in trouble.

Friday morning Joanna left for work earlier than usual so she could drop Frog off at Challengers since she'd be gone for the weekend. She also felt she owed Cynthia an honest explanation. After all, both her and MacGyver had practically abandoned the club leaving the older woman to run it single-handedly. After Jo had settled Frog into his preferred corner and set out fresh food and water for him, she crossed the room and tapped softly on Cynthia's office door.

"Mind if I come in for a minute?" she asked.

Cynthia looked up from her work, surprise registering on her face. "Of course not! Please, have a seat. We've missed you around here."

"I know and I'm sorry," Jo responded as she sat on the edge of the offered chair. "I wanted to let you know I brought Frog over for the weekend. I need to go to a convention in Madison."

"That's no problem. The kids will love having him around again. They missed him these past couple of days," Cynthia assured her with a smile.

"I'll also be making it a point to spend more time here."

Cynthia waved off the comment. "You're busy with school. We'll be fine until MacGyver comes back."

Joanna looked down at the floor. "That's something else we need to talk about."

"Well, it's about time!" Cynthia leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "There's more to Mac's trip, isn't there?"

"How did you know?"

"When he stopped in to say he was leaving, he looked like he had just lost his best friend...or maybe someone even more important."

Joanna reluctantly met Cynthia's gaze, dreading the censure she assumed she would find, but instead, the woman's eyes were filled with compassion.

"Mac didn't totally lie to you," Jo began. "He was worried about not hearing from Jack so I told him to check things out. But I sent him away because some things happened on his birthday that caused me to start rethinking our relationship."

"Honey, you have to know that MacGyver is head-over-heels in love with you. I've known him a long time and have never seen him this happy. This content."

"I want to believe you. I really do. But I need to be sure we're doing the right thing for the right reasons."

"And how will you know you are?" Cynthia challenged.

Ashamed that she didn't have an answer, Joanna glanced down at her watch and quickly excused herself saying she was late for work which would be true if she continued with this conversation.

The lunch bell had just rung when Tim poked his head into Joanna's classroom. She greeted him with a bright smile he did not return.

"Listen, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to break our lunch date," he informed her. "I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork that I need to get done before we leave."

Jo sighed in relief. "No problem. I'm actually glad because I still have to get lesson plans together for the sub on Monday. I'm beginning to think it would be easier just to come in myself."

"No way!" Tim objected. "Mrs. V. gave us the day off. Take advantage of it! By the way, could you give me your address so I know where to pick you up later?"

"Oh, sure," Joanna mumbled as she scribbled the address to Mac's apartment on a sticky note. "I'm all packed, I just want to change into something more comfortable for the trip."

"Sounds great. I'll see you about four?"

"See you then," she agreed as both anxiety and excitement about the upcoming weekend did battle in her stomach.

Joanna had just finished taking one last look in the mirror when there was a knock on the front door. Knowing it was Tim, she hurried down the spiral staircase and let him in as she went to retrieve her luggage.

"Play much hockey, do you?" Tim inquired as he examined Mac's gear.

Jo laughed. "No. This isn't actually my place. I'm house sitting for a friend."

"This 'friend' wouldn't happen to be the same guy who gave you that ring?"

Joanna felt herself flush. "Yeah," she admitted softly. "But I'm not sure how long he'll be here, especially after his landlord sells the place."

Not caring for the direction this conversation had taken, she picked up her large suitcase and changed the subject.

"Sorry, I tried to pack light," she smiled ruefully as Tim quickly took the piece of luggage from her.

"No problem. A girl's gotta be prepared for everything, right?" he said with a wink as he headed out the door.

Jo felt her heart flip at the refreshing reply. She had gotten so used to MacGyver complaining about how much she packed she never expected some other guy might actually understand.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought we'd take Highway 16," Tim said as they headed west, out of the city. "I figure Friday night rush hour on the interstate will be a nightmare. This way may take a little longer, but it should be a lot less stressful. Besides, it'll give us more time to get to know each other."

Over the next two hours, they exchanged anecdotes about attending Catholic grade school, their families, and the paths they had each taken that had landed them both at Lincoln High School. Joanna was surprised and pleased at how easy their conversation flowed. Even the silence was comfortable. They had just reached the outskirts of Madison when they saw a billboard advertising a well-known, casual chain restaurant.

"Wanna stop and get some supper before we check into the hotel?" Tim asked.

"You read my mind," Jo grinned.

When the server appeared beside their table at the crowded restaurant, Joanna ordered the fish fry, a Friday night staple on any Wisconsin menu. Tim ordered a steak with all the trimmings, causing Jo to frown.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing," she murmured.

"C'mon, what is it? You a vegetarian or something?"

"No, it's just a Friday. In Lent."

Tim relaxed as understanding dawned. "And you thought I'd abstain from meat like a good Catholic boy."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed," Jo stammered feeling suddenly awkward.

"Trust me, I'm sure God, Himself, would break that rule for a good old-fashioned piece of beef!" he laughed while Joanna summoned a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

After having secured and searched out their rooms in the hotel, Tim deposited Joanna's luggage next to her door.

"Looks like we're neighbors," he remarked.

"Looks like it," she agreed, as she fiddled with her keycard to unlock her door.

"Well, if you need anything during the night, just knock on the wall," Tim teased with a friendly wink.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, but I'll keep that in mind," she replied with a smirk before tugging her suitcase into her room and closing the door behind her as a tingling heat crept up her neck. Later, as she crawled into bed, she stared at the dividing wall, a frisson of awareness passing through her before she drifted off to sleep.

Saturday morning Joanna awoke with a dull ache in her temple and groaned. Her slumber the night before had been riddled with odd dreams. Faceless figures had floated past her mind's eye. Some warmed her with hope and love while others chilled her with anxiety and fear leaving her feeling restless and out-of-sorts. Thirty minutes later, Tim knocked on her door and together they joined hundreds of educators from around the state in a huge conference room where everyone was taking advantage of a free breakfast buffet. She and Tim compared their schedules one last time to make sure that none of their chosen seminars overlapped as Mrs. Varga had asked. Soon, the large group split into several smaller ones as a number of presentations began in separate, smaller gathering rooms.

By lunch time, Joanna remembered why she hated going to these types of events and would do cartwheels to get out of them. Eventually, all the presenters basically said the same thing which, when boiled down, was basic common sense to any teacher worth his or her salt. Granted, she had picked up some interesting information as well as tips and tricks for teaching and disciplining at-risk youth, but her stiff back and aching shoulders outweighed them all...and there was still a whole afternoon and half day tomorrow to go.

Tim was waiting for her while everyone was herded back into the large conference room for the midday meal. Both needing a break from their colleagues' incessant chatter, they ate quickly and silently before taking a stroll among the hotel's common areas which ended with Tim kneading Jo's taught neck and shoulder muscles. She wanted to moan with delight as the tension quickly melted under his gentle yet firm ministrations, but instead she moaned with disappointment when an announcement beckoned them back to their seminars.

"Tell ya what," Tim proposed before they parted, "Let's have dinner in the hotel restaurant tonight."

"Are you sure?" Jo asked. "It's pretty high end."

"Yep! Consider it a reward for surviving a day's worth of seminars."

Hours later, Joanna was comfortably seated at a cozy table for two in a candlelit corner of the fancy restaurant. The afternoon had dragged, but the thought of spending the evening with Tim provided a much needed shot of adrenaline. She chalked it up to the excitement of getting to know a new friend. At least, that's what she convinced herself to believe. As had become customary, conversation flowed easily. After debriefing each other on the information each had gleaned from the day, they proceeded to talk about both everything and nothing at all. Jo was once again pleasantly surprised at how relaxed she felt in Tim's company. Maybe it was because they're backgrounds were so similar she didn't feel like she had to defend herself and her choices. Or perhaps it was because Tim was open and straightforward and she didn't have to worry about saying something that would bring back an old fear or open up a painful memory. Or maybe it was because a kind, handsome, intelligent man appeared to take a genuine interest in her.

After dinner, they slowly strolled to their rooms. Somewhere along the way Joanna's hand had slipped into Tim's, but she made no effort to remove it. Arriving at her door she sighed.

"Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful. I hate to see this evening end," she confessed.

"It doesn't have to, ya know," he replied softly.

Warning bells went off in her head, but she ignored them. "Wanna come in for awhile? We could start getting our notes together for the faculty meeting," she suggested.

"Sure," Tim murmured, giving her a lazy smile as she again fumbled with her key card.

Once inside, Jo headed toward the desk to retrieve her legal pad, but Tim grasped her hand tighter and turned her towards him.

"I'm really enjoying getting to know you," he said, his voice husky. "I can't believe we've been teaching in the same school for seven months and I never noticed you. I hope you know what a very special woman you are."

She watched breathlessly as his clear hazel eyes darkened and he leaned closer. Every nerve ending in her body tingled in anticipation. She stood stock still as his warm lips ever so lightly grazed her own.

"I'm sorry, I can't," she said, pulling away.

"Is it because of _him_?" he asked, looking pointedly at the ring on her left hand. "I thought you were breaking up with him."

"I said that it's complicated," she answered, preparing herself for angry words from Tim accusing her of leading him on.

When he next spoke, his voice was calm and smooth. "It's not that complicated, Joanna. If that was my ring you were wearing, I wouldn't have let you push me away in the first place."

Her feet frozen to the floor, Jo felt him place a chaste kiss on her forehead before leaving the room. She mechanically performed her bedtime routine and it was only once she was snuggled under the covers that she allowed herself to replay Tim's kiss in her mind. Her eyes welled with tears as she relived the emotions it had awakened. The loneliness, emptiness, coldness she had felt...because he wasn't Mac.

At some point during the pre-dawn hours, Joanna's heart firmly decided she truly and deeply loved MacGyver and would for the rest of her life, but it was her head that convinced her guys like MacGyver didn't date, much less marry, girls like her and she would be much better off with a nice, safe, family-oriented man instead. Decision made, she knocked on Tim's hotel door early the next morning.

"Can I buy you breakfast as an apology for last night?" she asked when he let her in.

"You have no need to apologize and breakfast is free," he pointed out.

"But it's the thought that counts. Right?" she asked with a sassy grin.

"Touche!" he laughed as he grabbed his notebook and draped his arm casually across her shoulders as they headed down to the conference room.

The final seminars of the convention were much more easy-going and laid back than the previous ones. It seemed as if Saturday had drained everyone's energy, including the presenters', and Joanna breathed a huge sigh of relief when the final session ended promptly at noon as scheduled. An hour later, she was sitting in the passenger seat of Tim's car as they headed east on Interstate 94 towards Milwaukee.

"Since I missed my usual Mass this weekend, I was planning on going to a church near the high school that offers an evening service tonight. Would you like to come along?" Jo ventured.

Tim glanced over in surprise. "Naw, I'm good. I was planning on spending the evening with a basketball game on TV and a cold beer."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." Again.

"Don't worry about it. I figure all the Masses I was forced to attend as a kid have me set for awhile," he smirked.

"I'm not sure it works that way," Joanna observed.

Tim shrugged. "I doubt God keeps an attendance log. Unless he works for Mrs. Varga!" Jo smiled but remained silent.

A little while later, Tim spoke again. "So, what are your plans for the summer?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "It's only _March_!"

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for plans...and summer vacation!"

"Mrs. Varga asked if I wanted to teach summer school, but I was planning on working full-time at Challengers."

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing yet. But I need to let her know this week."

"If you want my opinion, just take the summer off. Do some traveling or something."

"Is that what you're gonna do?"

"Yep! I'm going to Japan for a month and then maybe take a couple smaller trips stateside if I can fit them in."

"Wow. Guess you won't be spending much time at home," Jo observed.

"Staying home is overrated. I never traveled as a kid and couldn't afford to when I was in college and starting my career. Now I have the time and the means and nothing holding me back for three months!"

"So you're making up for what you missed out on?"

He shrugged, "I guess you could say that."

"I see," Jo replied before turning to look out the side window and watch the familiar landscape pass by.

When they reached the city, Jo asked Tim to stop at Challengers so she could pick up Frog.

"What kinda place is this?" her colleague asked as they walked through the parking lot.

"It's a community boys and girls club. Everyone is welcome, though. But most of our members are at-risk or low-income kids. We actually have quite a few from Lincoln High."

"And you volunteer here?"

"Yeah. Well, actually I'm one of the directors. I feel bad that I haven't been able to spend much time here since I started teaching full time, though."

"You seriously want to spend time with your students outside of the classroom?" he asked with a tinge of sarcasm.

Jo stopped and turned to look him in the eye. "Yeah, I do. It's a great way to get to know them and their background. I feel it helps me be a better teacher when I know what my students are going through after they leave my class. You might want to consider volunteering yourself. We're looking to get the kids involved in community projects and will take all the help we can get."

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass. A guy needs his down-time, ya know?"

"Sure," she replied flatly.

They entered the building to find Cynthia and Rosie chatting at the reception desk. They both looked up when they heard the door open.

"Back from the convention?" Cynthia asked.

"Yeah, thank goodness," Jo answered before briefly introducing Tim as her colleague. She grabbed Frog's leash from its hook and headed to the corner where several younger members were petting the dog.

"Sorry to break up the fun, but it's time for Frog to go home," she announced.

"You named him 'Frog'?" Tim whispered in her ear causing her to laugh.

"No. Someone else named him that long before I ever met him."

As the kids moved on to other activities, Joanna bent down to give Frog a hearty ear rub before clipping the lead on his collar. When he caught sight of Tim standing behind her, he growled low in his throat.

"Hey, what's that all about?" Jo asked the dog as she smoothed her hand down his back, feeling his chubby body quivering. "C'mon, I want you to meet a new friend." She tugged on his leash but he remained firmly planted on his bed, his eyes never leaving Tim, his body trembling.

"I don't know what's gotten into him," she apologized.

"He can probably sense I'm not much of a dog person," Tim remarked.

"Then I take it you prefer cats?"

"Why would you say that?"

Jo hesitated. "Well, one is usually either a dog person or a cat person."

"To be honest, I'm not really into pets. Too much responsibility."

Joanna stared at him, speechless. A few days ago she thought he was her perfect match. Now in the span of a couple hours he basically said he doesn't go to church or like animals and apparently had a low opinion of her involvement with Challengers. She mentally shook her head. She was tired and probably giving his words too much weight.

"You got a kennel or something to put him in for the ride home?" Tim asked, breaking into her thoughts. "My car _does_ have leather seats, ya know." From the look on his face he wasn't kidding and Jo felt her blood pressure soar.

"Why don't you let Frog stay here," Cynthia suggested with a knowing smile obviously having overheard Tim's comment.

"But you've had him all weekend," Jo protested.

"And both he and the kids have loved it," the older woman insisted.

"Alright," Joanna capitulated. "I'm gonna spend some time here tomorrow since I have the day off so I guess it only makes sense."

"Good. Now you go home and get some rest. And don't worry about what time you come in. I can hold down the fort," Cynthia promised.

The air in Tim's car was fraught with tension as he drove Joanna back to the townhouse.

"Are you upset because I don't like dogs?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

What could Jo say? Yes, she was upset. She had always pictured a dog in her life. And, to be honest, her gut told her not to trust people who didn't love animals.

"No, I'm just tired," she finally told him. And it wasn't a complete lie.

After arriving at the apartment, Tim carried in her luggage and waited until she was settled.

"How about we get together tomorrow and get our notes in order for the faculty meeting. We never did get around to that," he reminded her with a grin.

"Sure," she agreed, less enthusiastically than she would have liked. "I wanna spend the morning at Challengers, but you can come by my place say about one in the afternoon?"

"Sounds good," he confirmed, taking the piece of paper on which she had scribbled her home address. At some point over the weekend she had also decided she needed to move out of MacGyver's house since she had already moved herself out of his life.

XXXXX

Monday afternoon Joanna watched from the bay window as Tim parked his car in front of the house. She greeted him at the front door.

"Hi, c'mon in," she invited. "I thought we'd work at the kitchen table," she said over her shoulder as she led him down the hall.

"This is a pretty big place for just you," he observed, taking a seat.

"Oh! I guess I never told you that I live with my parents."

"What?!"

A bit taken aback by his reaction, Joanna went on to give him a brief history of the house and the rationale behind her decision to remain there.

"I don't know how you do it," he said, shaking his head. "There's no way I could live under the same roof as Ed and Irma everyday."

"Ed and Irma?"

"Yeah, my parents."

"Do you always call your parents by their first names?" Jo couldn't help but ask.

"Only when they're not around," he grinned. "I mean, there comes a time when you outgrow calling them 'Mom' and 'Dad'. Know what I mean?"

Apparently that was a rhetorical question as he continued, "So where are your parents now?"

"Monday is their day to run errands. They'll be gone for awhile yet."

Joanna had been looking forward to introducing her family to Tim. Now she just wanted to get him out of her house, and her life, as quickly as possible. Her first impressions of him had certainly been way off the mark. He was in no way the type of man she had imagined him to be, but she was thankful she discovered it so quickly. She should have been this decisive with MacGyver a couple years ago but she was too busy believing they were falling in love.

"Then we better get crackin'," Tim suggested, obviously eager to part ways as well.

With a minimum of discussion, the two teachers quickly outlined the presentation Mrs. Varga expected from them and as soon as it was done, Tim expressed his need to leave and attend to his own errands. He hurried out the door with a tight smile and a light-hearted, "See ya around!"

Joanna stood in the middle of the living room and watched as his car pulled away from the curb just as her parent's car turned the corner. Huffing out a sigh and refusing to shed even one tear, she painfully noted that she was once again all alone.


	43. Where It Began

**Where It Began**

 **March 31, 1998**

MacGyver opened his eyes and immediately squinted at the bright shaft of sunlight piercing through the grungy window. He looked at his watch, chagrined but not surprised to find that it was already mid-morning. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and yawned. His flight from Los Angeles to the Twin Cities the day before had been delayed...twice. And then, instead of taking a connecting flight to Mission City, he had chosen to rent a 4X4 figuring the solitude of the drive would give him time to think. Instead, he had brooded big time. It was exactly one week ago that Joanna had told him to leave. Had told him she needed to figure out if she truly belonged in his life. Had, in her mind, set him free when all he felt was tied in knots of despair. In hindsight, he now wondered if he did the right thing by doing what she asked, or if he should have stayed and fought for their relationship. It was a vicious rhetorical circle that was making him dizzy. By the time he pulled up to his grandpa Harry's cabin in Northern Minnesota all he wanted to do was fall into bed, which he did, fully clothed. He pushed himself upright and shuffled to the kitchen area, grimacing at the dust that had gathered in the one-room hideaway. After pouring himself a lukewarm glass of water from the cranky faucet, he opened the door and breathed in the early spring air. There was something about this place that always soothed his soul, no matter how torn and beaten it was. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew it would always be here for him and would never change. At least he hoped that was the case.

He was about to turn and go back inside when something by the gravel drive caught his eye. It had been well after dark when he pulled in last night, but now, in the light of day, little red and yellow flags sticking out of the ground were obvious against the still-brown grass. MacGyver considered them for a moment. They had most likely been placed by the DNR or Forestry Service to mark something. Perhaps there were plans to repair and widen the deeply rutted road. Or maybe they were indicators of where trees were to be planted or taken down or both. With a mental shrug, Mac grabbed his car keys and headed into town for supplies.

As was his ritual, he first stopped to check out the house he had grown up in. Now a nursing home for more years than he could remember, the lawn and yard were perfectly manicured despite the harsh winter. A sudden yearning to walk through the rooms of his old home tugged at his heart, but he doubted the elderly residents would take kindly to his trip down memory lane so he kept his feelings at bay. Instead, he shifted into gear and headed toward the heart of town. He was a couple blocks away from the supermarket, his main destination, when he glimpsed flashing red and blue lights in his rearview mirror and the single whir of the siren signaling him to pull over. MacGyver groaned but obeyed and watched as the officer slowly climbed from his car and approached the rented vehicle. Mac rolled down the window and waited. This day was not starting out well.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?" MacGyver asked, turning toward the cop and summoning what he hoped was a friendly, innocent smile.

"MacGyver?!"

"Neil!" Mac exhaled when he recognized his childhood friend and Mission City police sergeant, Neil Ryder. "That you're way of welcoming back an old friend?" he asked with a grin.

"Oh, sorry about that. I got a call from the nursing home about a possible stalker and your vehicle matched the description."

"A _stalker_?"

Neil shrugged, "What can I say? The town is growing every day and those folks aren't accustomed to strangers. So, I guess you're here for the big town hall meeting tomorrow night, eh?"

"What meeting?"

"Didn't you get the letter?"

"No. I didn't get a letter." Mac was quickly losing patience with his friend.

"That's odd," Neil mused.

"Well, I haven't exactly been home a lot lately. Would you just tell me what you're talking about?"

"An outfit called North Star Real Estate Developers is proposing to buy up a bunch of land around Bell Lake and build luxury condominiums. They've already been here talkin' to your neighbors."

"Neighbors?"

Neil chuckled, "I know Harry's place is secluded, but you _do_ have neighbors, ya know."

"Well, they can't be very happy about these plans," Mac observed, steering the conversation away from the fact that he had never really considered himself as having neighbors up here.

"On the contrary, some are seriously considering the developer's offers."

"What about you? You still got the cabin?"

"Naw. I sold it after Sean started college. He didn't have time to hang out in the woods with his old man anymore," Neil replied with a wry grin. "Look, I gotta get going. Come to the town hall meeting in the high school gymnasium tomorrow evening at seven o'clock. In the meantime, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, I will," Mac muttered, his friend's words swirling around in his brain.

After making quick work of his grocery shopping, MacGyver walked into the local sporting goods store owned by his other good friend, Chuck.

"Mac! How the heck are ya?!" the larger man greeted him with a bear hug.

"Good," Mac grunted, relieved when his friend backed away allowing him to breathe again.

"Guess you're here for the big town hall meetin' tomorrow."

"Yeah." At least he was now. "What do you know about that anyway?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. I don't own property up there so they ain't interested in me. But they've been up there surveying the area." That would explain the little flags MacGyver had found by his drive. "How much they offer you?"

"They haven't approached me yet," Mac told him.

"Whatcha gonna tell 'em when they do?"

"I'm gonna turn them down like everyone else will."

Chuck shook his head slowly. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, buddy. Rumor has it they're playin' fast and loose with their cash. Might make ya an offer ya can't refuse."

"I doubt that," Mac replied. "Harry's cabin isn't for sale."

"Yeah, right," Chuck smirked. "We'll see what ya have to say after tomorrow night when they offer ya a big fat check for that rundown place. If I were you, I'd take the money and run."

"Well, you're not me, and I doubt I'm gonna change my mind," MacGyver retorted. "Now if ya don't mind, could ya get me some live bait?"

Chuck's eyebrows came together as he frowned. "Awful early in the season to be fishin'. Lake's hardly thawed."

"Great! Then I'll surprise the fish!"

Back at the cabin, Mac stowed his groceries before grabbing an old fishing pole from the storage closet and heading to the rickety old pier. The late March wind blowing off the water definitely had a bite to it, but MacGyver didn't really plan on catching anything. He just needed to think. And soaking a line had always been a great way to do that. He inhaled the clean, fresh air while taking in his surroundings. Pine and spruce trees stood tall and green while sunlight poured down through the still-bare branches of the deciduous trees that also populated the area. While he had planned on considering ways to bring his wayward fiance back to her senses, his mind kept wandering to what Neil and Chuck had told him about North Star Real Estate. The unsullied space around him was a priceless refuge. He would go to that meeting tomorrow, politely turn down any offer that might be made, and spend the rest of the night driving back to Milwaukee. Driving home. End of story.

A soft but steady beeping sound pulled MacGyver from his reverie. He looked to find an elderly man walking the rocky shoreline, a metal detector in hand. Mac smiled, picturing Jack Dalton years from now still searching for his elusive fortune.

The man turned and caught sight of MacGyver. "You livin' in the old Jackson place?" he asked.

"Nope. Just visiting," Mac replied. "What about you?"

"Me and the missus live around that bend in the lake," the man pointed in the direction he had come.

"Finding anything good?" MacGyver asked, nodding his head toward the device in the man's hand.

"Naw," he sighed dejectedly. "Just some fishhooks and a couple coins, but this cockamamie thing keeps goin' off like the Titanic was buried here."

"Well, keep at it," Mac encouraged as he pulled his fishing line out of the water. "Maybe I'll see ya around."

"Yeah, sure," the older man replied absently as the beeping grew more frantic. Probably another fishhook, MacGyver thought.

XXXXX

Wednesday evening, Mac slipped into an empty chair in the back of the high school gymnasium shortly before seven o'clock. A small stage had been set up at the other end of the room where a middle-aged man, casually dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, methodically set up various maps and charts and readied his slide projector. The gym was packed to capacity so the man gently tapped the microphone with his finger to get everyone's attention. Once all eyes were on him, he introduced himself as Bill Lichtman, the CEO of North Star Real Estate. MacGyver leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and took in the presentation. He had been to more than one of these things during his time with Phoenix and he had to admit that this guy was good. He warmed up the crowd by praising the fine citizens of Mission City before cracking a couple jokes that native Minnesotans could easily relate to before drawing their attention to his company's plans and vision for the future.

MacGyver kept his gaze trained on the audience, watching as people whispered into their neighbors ear while others nodded at what Bill was saying. There was a certain energy in the room that Mac found unsettling. Once Lichtman was done with his spiel, he opened up the floor for questions. At first, most inquiries related to the development itself, but soon a woman wearing a state DNR uniform stood up and asked about the impact the project would have on the lake, game, fish, and waterfowl. Mac leaned forward in his chair, knowing that this was where things were going to get interesting. Bill Lichtman gave a smooth, and obviously well-rehearsed, reply about his company's shared concern for local wildlife and natural resources and assured everyone that several studies had been conducted in order to find a way to make the transition as harmless as possible. MacGyver scoffed to himself knowing full well how these operations worked, always leaving the land raped and pillaged. A murmur slowly rose from the crowd and Mac waited for protests to arise, but other than a few more head nods no one else spoke up. They couldn't possibly be buying into this guy's slick explanations! Were the citizens of Mission City going to allow a heartless development company like North Star run roughshod over Bell Lake and the surrounding land?!

In less than sixty minutes the entire event concluded. MacGyver watched as most audience members headed directly for the exits, many of them chatting happily and even laughing. Others stayed behind and visited in small groups while Bill Lichtman stepped down from his platform and mingled with those remaining. Mac soon caught sight of the developer speaking with an elderly couple. He recognized the husband as the man he had seen the day before scavenging with the metal detector. He waited until Lichtman took his leave before approaching.

"Hi there," Mac greeted the couple before turning his attention to the man. "I believe we briefly met the other day. I'm staying at the Jackson place."

"Of course!" the man exclaimed, recognition dawning in his eyes. "I'm Arthur and this is my wife, Maggie."

Mac smiled and shook their hands. "Name's MacGyver. Harry Jackson was my grandfather."

"Ah, good ole Harry," Arthur replied. "Bit of a loner but a heck of a fisherman!"

MacGyver nodded in agreement. "So what do you make of this whole business with North Star? Have they made you an offer on your place yet?"

"Oh, they've been an answer to our prayers!" Maggie gushed. "We just can't take care of our house like we used to and have been wanting to move to Minneapolis to be with our children and their families, but who wants to buy a place that's literally falling down? Then Mr. Lichtman came along and made us an offer we couldn't refuse!"

"So you're selling, then?" Mac asked feeling both surprised and dismayed.

"We finalized the deal earlier today," Arthur confirmed. "Just came by tonight to thank Bill again for the generous offer."

"Excuse me, did you say your name's MacGyver?"

Mac spun around to find Bill Lichtman standing behind him, a wide, friendly grin on his face. How long had he been there?

"That's right," Mac said as Arthur and Maggie politely took their leave.

"I've been wanting to speak with you, but you're a hard man to pin down," Lichtman said, still grinning.

"If this is about me selling the cabin, you can save your breath. It isn't gonna happen."

The developer's smile slipped just a bit. "Now, now, Mr. MacGyver. Let's not be hasty. You haven't even heard my offer."

"It's not for sale," Mac told him firmly.

"Perhaps we could negotiate?" Lichtman handed MacGyver a piece of paper with a price written on it. Mac's eyebrows shot up to his shaggy bangs. There were way too many numbers before the decimal point.

"Mr. Lichtman, you and I both know Harry's cabin isn't worth a fraction of this!"

"On the contrary, your grandfather's cabin is the only piece of real estate standing in the way of our plan and worth a great deal to my company. I'd be more than happy to add to that number if it would get you to change your mind."

Mac's stomach fell to the floor. All his neighbors had sold out to North Star?! But then again, if Lichtman offered them anywhere near what he was offering MacGyver, he could hardly blame them.

"I told you, I'm not selling," MacGyver reiterated between clenched teeth before heading to the door.

XXXXX

The following morning, MacGyver took his fishing pole down to the dock to think. He couldn't believe that all the owners of land around Bell Lake had already sold out to North Star Developers. Arthur was once again combing the shore with his metal detector, gently tapping the device against a rock every now and again assumedly in response to false readings. The older man looked up and waved to Mac who smiled and returned the gesture. Just then, the whine of a small airplane engine began to grow louder. MacGyver looked to the sky, shading his eyes with his hand, as he watched the yellow and white plane approach and begin to circle over the lake several times, its altitude never changing until the pilot began making larger sweeps just above the top of the tree line. After ten minutes of making progressively larger circles the plane turned and headed back in the direction it had come, leaving Mac with an uneasy feeling. He needed to talk to someone, and who better than his two life-long friends.

"I've just got a weird feeling about this whole thing," MacGyver insisted as he leaned on the counter inside Chuck's store while his friend stood on the other side with Neil, in uniform, next to Mac.

"You just need time to get used to the idea," the police sergeant reasoned. "North Star's been up here surveying and holding meetings like the one last night for months now. Sure, in the beginning, folks were wary, but most of us have come to realize that this condo development is a real good thing for the town."

"How so?" MacGyver challenged. "How is polluting our lake and taking away our woodlands a good thing?"

"Lichtman promised his company is just as concerned about the environment as we are," Chuck pointed out.

"Plus, this project will bring in more jobs which will build a stronger economy," Neil reasoned.

"I know," Mac mumbled, jamming his fingers through his hair.

"Then why don't you tell us what's really bothering you?" Chuck prodded.

"I guess it's the idea of losing Harry's cabin," MacGyver grudgingly admitted. "There are a lot of good memories in that place and I like knowing it's always here."

"We get that," Neil agreed, "But you gotta think about this logically. How often do you come up here anyway? And you know that cabin is fallin' down around you. Are you really willing to put in the time and money to keep up the old place when you could sell it and use the money for anything you wanted?"

Mac thought about how much Challengers desperately needed extra funds. Was he being selfish? Keeping a place just to know it was there for him, for when he had to run away? But there were bigger issues at stake also, he argued with himself.

"Thanks for the talk, guys. I think I'm gonna take a drive and clear my head."

"You gonna be okay?" Chuck asked, his face full of concern.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Mac assured his friend. And he would be, once he drove out to the airport and discovered why that plane had been circling the lake earlier.

Like everything else in his hometown, the Mission City Airport had grown considerably, but he was still able to easily find the small yellow and white plane from that morning. A stocky, balding man in soiled overalls was examining the engine.

"Excuse me," Mac called as he approached. "That your plane?"

The man looked up, "No sir, this here's a rental, but I'm afraid it's booked for the day. Pilot reported some engine trouble so I'm checkin' it out before he takes it back up."

"I'm gonna be in town for a while and might wanna take her out. Mind if I look around?" MacGyver asked casually.

"Suit yourself," the man grunted before returning his attention to the machine.

Mac slowly strolled around the plane as if inspecting the fuselage until he came to the passenger side door. Standing on tiptoe he looked in the window and paused when his gaze fell upon a small black box tucked securely between the two front seats. After making sure the mechanic was still ignoring him, MacGyver opened the door and climbed in for a closer look. On the top of the box were a couple knobs and a small readout screen. Wanting to confirm his suspicions, he pulled out his Swiss Army knife and unscrewed the top panel to look inside. Sure enough, it was a proton magnetometer. Mac carefully re-secured the metal panel and exited the plane, heading back to chat with the mechanic.

"If you don't mind me asking, who rented this plane for today?"

The man looked up, clearly frustrated with MacGyver's presence. "Look buddy, I just fix 'em. All the business takes place in the office." Mac turned to where the man pointed with his wrench.

"Thanks a lot," he replied cheerfully. "Maybe I'll be seein' ya around." The man once again returned to his work while MacGyver walked to the rental office.

The little bell above the door jangled as Mac crossed over the threshold and strode to the counter. When no one appeared, he slipped around to the other side and found the reservation book laying open beside a computer monitor. Written in large letters under the day's date were the words 'North Star'. The unsettling feeling he had been having since Neil had told him about the development plans came back in full force as he quietly exited the office and headed for the 4X4.

Back in town, MacGyver walked into the library and headed for the section dedicated to the history of Mission City. Hours later he feared he would be permanently cross eyed from studying decades worth of historical data and geological maps. He longed to bounce his thoughts off his friends, but he needed more evidence before he shared his accusations against North Star Developers with Neil and Chuck.

Mac had just started a roaring fire and was about to crash on Harry's old, thread-bare couch when there was a knock on his door. He opened it to find Arthur standing just outside, holding his metal detector.

"Hope I'm not disturbin' ya," the older man said in way of greeting.

"No, not at all. Please come in."

Arthur took two steps into the room and stopped. "Harry once mentioned he had a grandson who could fix just about everything. You wouldn't happen to be him, would ya?"

"I'm afraid so," MacGyver chuckled. "That thing acting up on you again?"

Arthur nodded. "Durn thing keeps beeping at me wherever I go. Would ya mind takin' a look at it?" he asked sheepishly.

"No problem. Put it on the kitchen table and let's see what we got."

Using his pocketknife and the few meager tools his grandfather had left behind, Mac dismantled, fiddled with, and reassembled the device.

"I can't find anything wrong with it," MacGyver finally sighed. "Let's take it outside and test it."

Arthur held a flashlight as Mac swiped the metal detector back and forth over the ground outside the cabin. He had covered a few square feet before the device squawked to life. MacGyver bent down to brush away the twigs and dried leaves from the autumn before that covered his 'treasure'.

"Just another rock," Arthur observed dejectedly as Mac reached for the object that had triggered the detector.

"Yeah, just a rock," he muttered under his breath.

"Sorry to have bothered you," he heard Arthur say.

"No problem. Maybe you should look into takin' up a new hobby," he suggested with a grin.

"Yeah," the old man laughed as he headed down the path toward his home.

MacGyver sat on the couch and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace, the rock he and Arthur had found still in the palm of his hand. The puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place, but he didn't like the picture they were forming. From everything he had seen, North Star Developers had been doing some serious land and aerial surveying including mineral deposit detection given the magnetometer he found in the plane. That, in itself, was standard procedure. However, the one thing that bothered him most was the extraordinary amount of money they were paying people for run down homes and cabins. And then there was Arthur, his wacky metal detector, and the rock from tonight. Was North Star really doing what he thought they were doing, or was this his psyche's way of giving him a reason to resist selling the cabin?

Mac leaned his head against the back cushion and sighed. Up until a couple years ago, he had forgotten this place even existed. Since then, it kept pulling him back and unearthing long-forgotten memories from his childhood. This city, these woods...this was where it had all begun for him before wanderlust overtook him and he fled the small town for the far reaches of the earth. But he knew he could always come back. His roots were here and always would be. His tired, traitorous mind then strayed to thoughts of Joanna. There was no doubt she and her family had strong roots of their own. Would he be able to give her the same? He glanced at the telephone mounted on the kitchen wall. He wanted to talk to her. He _needed_ to talk to her. But he knew he had to respect her wishes if he wanted to keep her hard-won trust. Even so, a glimmer of a plan began to take form in his mind, but he quickly squashed it. He had other things to take care of first.

Early Friday morning MacGyver drove to the nearby university and headed straight to the geology department. He knocked on the office door of the head professor.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the lanky, bespectacled man asked.

"I sure hope so," Mac replied, quickly introducing himself. "I was doing some exploring with my metal detector around Bell Lake and it went crazy over this rock." MacGyver pulled said rock from his jacket pocket. "I was wondering if you could examine it. See if it's valuable."

The man looked at him over the rim of his glasses. "I don't get these requests very often, but I could take a look."

Mac followed the geologist into the lab where he inspected the rock with different types of instruments. Finally he returned to where MacGyver stood waiting and gave him the information he had been looking for.

That afternoon once again found MacGyver, Neil and Chuck leaning against the glass display case in Chuck's store.

"I've been doing some investigating and I think Bill Lichtman plans to do a whole lot more than build luxury condos," Mac proclaimed.

His two friends groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Would you just stop with this nonsense, Mac?" Neil implored. "You don't wanna sell Harry's cabin, we get that. But don't go making trouble where there isn't any!"

"I'm not making this up," MacGyver retorted. "Now just hear me out."

Chuck and Neil sighed but gave Mac their undivided attention.

"Yesterday before I came into town I saw a small plane circling the lake. After we talked I went to check it out. Turns out it's a rental and North Star had it booked for the entire day."

"That's not a crime, Mac," Neil interrupted with a scowl.

"I know that," MacGyver replied sarcastically. "But when I looked in the cockpit I found a portable magnetometer."

"A _what_?" Neil asked.

"Think of it as a souped up metal detector. It measures the earth's magnetic field and records the data. Geologist use them to find mineral deposits. I went to the library and did some research. This whole area of the state used to be the largest producer of iron ore in the country, but since all the high grade ore is now gone, the mining industry is turning its focus to taconite, an iron-bearing rock. North Star isn't planning on building condos, they're planning on stripping and mining this land!"

"Mac, that's a pretty serious accusation you're making," Neil cautioned.

"I know that," MacGyver concurred. "But it makes sense, especially when you consider how much Lichtman is paying for properties!"

"But you don't have any solid proof!"

"I have this." Mac held out the rock from the night before. "I found it by the cabin and took it to the university and had it examined. It contains trace amounts of taconite and if my neighbor's metal detector is accurate, there's a whole lot more all around the lake."

"Sounds like he's onto something," Chuck observed.

"I'd have to agree," Neil conceded.

"What all do you know about North Star Developers anyway?" Mac asked.

Neil winced, "Apparently not enough. I'm going back to the station and do some digging, no pun intended. I'll let you know if I find anything interesting."

MacGyver had just finished heating up some canned stew for a late supper when there was a knock on the door. He opened it only to come face-to-face with Bill Lichtman.

"How many times do I hafta tell you I'm not selling?" Mac asked, his frustration mounting.

"That's not why I came," Lichtman replied coldly. "I came here to get rid of something that's in my way." The developer reached into the front of his overcoat and pulled out a small handgun.

MacGyver instinctively put up his hands and slowly backed away as Lichtman moved forward into the cabin keeping the weapon trained on Mac's chest.

"Hey, let's not be hasty here," Mac urged. "Everyone's got their price, right? Can't we negotiate?"

"It's too late for that, Mr. MacGyver. I don't have the time nor the inclination to let some environmentalist tree-hugger get in the way of my real estate project."

"Don't you mean your mining operation?"

The words were barely out of Mac's mouth before two well-built men in ski masks slipped into the room, each grabbing one of MacGyver's arms.

"Ya know, a gunshot can echo for miles up here. There's no way you're gonna get away with this," Mac argued as he struggled against the men holding him.

Lichtman's laugh sent shivers up and down MacGyver's spine. "You think I'm that stupid? No, you're going to die and everyone will believe it was simply a tragic accident."

Mac watched as the developer once again reached into his overcoat. This time he pulled out a neatly folded white handkerchief and a small bottle of clear liquid he instinctively knew was chloroform. He quickly weighed his options. He could easily take out Lichtman, but the two other men were a bit more problematic. He could try and fight all three. That could be _very_ problematic, but he was out of time. As Lichtman raised the cloth, MacGyver began to try and extricate his arms from the masked men while kicking out at the developer as well. The man on his left landed a hard karate chop to the back of Mac's neck. His knees buckled and he slid to the floor. That was the opening Lichtman needed to press the chloroform soaked handkerchief against his mouth and nose. MacGyver held his breath until his lungs burned and he had no choice but to inhale the slightly sweet poison.

"Go ahead and toss him in the lake. Everyone will think he drown." These were the last words Mac heard before unconsciousness claimed him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was mid-morning when Neil pulled his cruiser up in front of Chuck's store.

"Hey Chuck, have you seen Mac around today?" he asked upon entering and finding his friend stocking shelves.

"Naw, he's probably fishing up at the lake. Why?"

Neil rubbed his brow that had furrowed with concern. "I thought he'd be chomping at the bit to find out what I learned about North Star. You know how he is once he gets an idea in his head."

"Yeah," the other man chuckled. "What _did_ you find out anyway? I mean, they're on the up-and-up, right?"

"I wish that was the case," Neil said, blowing out a breath. "Turns out North Star Real Estate Developers is a shell company, and 'Bill Lichtman' is just one of many aliases the man uses. He's been running schemes across the country for a couple years now. There's a federal warrant out for him so I called the FBI and they're sending someone from the nearest field office before this yahoo can bolt again."

"So was MacGyver right? About the mining, I mean," Chuck asked.

"I couldn't tell, but we'll find out when we get Lichtman, or whoever he is, in custody." Just then, the walkie-talkie on Neil's police utility belt crackled to life.

 _"Dispatch to Sergeant Ryder."_

"This is Neil. What's up, Betty?"

" _I figured you'd want to know we just received a 911 call requesting an ambulance up at the Jackson place."_

"Thanks, Betty. I'm on my way!"

"Something must've happened to MacGyver!" Chuck exclaimed as he grabbed his jacket and followed Neil out the door, locking it behind him.

"We don't know that. It could've been Mac who made the call, but I still wanna check it out."

The two men piled into Neil's cruiser and arrived at Harry's cabin just in time to see MacGyver's unconscious form strapped to a stretcher that was being loaded into the back of the ambulance. Neil sprang out of the car and jogged toward the emergency vehicle.

"What happened?" he demanded from one of the EMT's.

"Won't know for sure until we get him to the hospital. The guy over there found him lying on the shore this morning and called it in."

"Thanks," Neil said, clapping the EMT on the shoulder. "Take good care of him, okay?"

"You got it, Sarge."

Once the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring even though the road was deserted, Neil walked over to the man who had found MacGyver.

"Hey Arthur, looks like you've had a pretty exciting morning. Mind telling me what happened?"

The elderly man looked pale and frazzled. "I was taking my daily walk around the lake and a few yards past the old pier I found MacGyver lying face down on the rocks. His clothes were wet and there was a gash on his forehead that was bleedin' pretty bad. When I couldn't wake him up I called 911. What do ya think happened to him?"

"I don't know," Neil admitted. "Hopefully he'll be able to tell us when he regains consciousness." Then the police officer turned his attention to Chuck. "C'mon, let's head for the hospital."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _It was dark and cold. So very cold. MacGyver clawed at the water surrounding him but his limbs were stiff and heavy. A jackhammer was going off in his head. His survival instinct told him he had to keep moving, but he was tired. Just a little further, his gut told him. He clawed some more. It felt like hours before his almost completely numb hand touched a rough rock. The shore! Fighting the exhaustion that threatened to claim him, he pulled himself out of the water and groaned as his head hit the jagged edge of a boulder and he drifted off into oblivion once more._

 _XXXXX_

 _Home. MacGyver was in his childhood home watching his mother prepare the traditional Sunday pancakes for his breakfast. Harry sat at the table grumbling about the weather, but Mac didn't care. He was safe and warm._

 _A cloud drifted over the scene, blocking it from view. When it passed, MacGyver stood in his houseboat. No, wait. His houseboat had burned down. He was in his apartment, but it was much larger than he recalled. More like an actual house. Joanna was there, beaming as she prepared his favorite pancake breakfast. Each of them wore a gold wedding band. She gazed lovingly at him and opened her mouth to speak, but when the words came out, it was not her voice._

"Mac. Hey Mac, can you hear me?"

He knew that voice. Had heard that voice since his childhood. He peeled one eyelid open but immediately slammed it shut as harsh, bright light assaulted him along with the antiseptic smell of what he knew was a hospital. He took deep breaths to calm the pounding in his head and reached up to touch his temple, only to feel a heavy gauze pad taped to him. Not again. He did a quick mental inventory and when the events of the past few days came flooding back he breathed a sigh of relief. At least this time he didn't have amnesia.

"C'mon Mac. It's me. Chuck!"

MacGyver slowly opened his eyes and looked up into the face of his friend who was leaning over the bed.

"You gave us quite a scare there, buddy," his friend said, his voice more relaxed now.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Mac groaned. "Where's Neil?"

"He's talkin' with the FBI."

"What?! What's happened? How long have I been out?"

"Your neighbor found you about seven hours ago. We were hoping you could tell us the rest."

Mac squeezed his eyes shut. "Get Neil. He needs to hear this," he commanded weakly.

MacGyver gingerly raised the head of his hospital bed as Chuck, Neil, and the FBI agent gathered around him while he recalled his encounter with Lichtman and his thugs the previous evening. When he had finished, Neil told him what he had learned about Lichtman and North Star and the FBI agent assured everyone that the con man was in custody and currently being questioned.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, Mr. MacGyver," the agent said. "But if not for you refusing to give in to Lichtman he could very well still be on the loose. The government has offered a reward for his capture and I'll see to it you get your share."

"Thanks," Mac mumbled as his eyelids slid closed and his head lolled to one side indicating he had fallen asleep.

XXXXX

"When can I get outta here, doc?" MacGyver asked Sunday morning as the physician examined his pupils with a bright penlight.

"Slow down, Mr. MacGyver. You haven't even been conscious for twenty-four hours. If you continue to improve, I'll sign your release papers first thing tomorrow. You do have someone to check on you, right?"

"Yep! I got that covered!" Chuck proclaimed as Mac glared daggers at him.

"What'd you go and say _that_ for?!" MacGyver scolded his friend once they were alone in the room.

"Geez, take it easy," Chuck drawled. "If you wanna get outta here, you hafta tell the doctor what he wants to hear. And trust me, I have no intention of playing nursemaid."

The next day, Neil drove MacGyver home from the hospital.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay out here?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," Mac promised dutifully. "What's gonna happen to all this property now that Lichtman, or whoever he is, got caught?"

Neil sighed as he guided Mac into the cabin. "That's up to the courts and it's a pretty complex case. I suppose some landowners will be able to opt to turn over the money they were paid and keep their places. Of course, some people have already started spending the payout they received from North Star. It's gonna be a sticky situation."

"No kiddin'," MacGyver agreed as he gingerly lowered himself onto the couch. "I'm glad I don't have to deal with it."

"So, what's next for you?" Neil asked.

What _was_ next for him? It was now two weeks since Joanna had asked him to leave. Being back in his hometown had gotten him thinking.

"I think I'm gonna hang out here for a few more days before heading home. I have some plans I need to hammer out."

Neil looked at him expectantly, but that was all Mac planned on sharing.


	44. Meanwhilein Milwaukee

**Meanwhile...in Milwaukee**

 **March 31, 1998**

Joanna laid in bed waiting for her alarm clock to ring, her stomach roiling with dread of bumping into Tim O'Brien as well as speaking to Vice Principal Varga regarding her new contract offer. She rolled onto her side. Who was she kidding? She had been riding an emotional rollercoaster for a week now. Ever since she told MacGyver to go to Los Angeles...and he did. Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut and her feelings to herself? Time and again Mac had proved his commitment to her. But she had to keep pushing. Pushing for constant reassurance that this was what he truly wanted. She wouldn't blame him if he changed his mind about marrying her. Perhaps, in the end, _she_ was the one with commitment issues. Maybe, contrary to what she had always assumed, it was her, not him, who wasn't cut out for marriage. Oh, what cruel irony! Would she ever be able to allow the last of her barriers to fall and willingly invite him completely into her life, never doubting the bond of love between them? Or was she fated to live out her days alone, mourning a love she, and she alone, denied herself? The clock began to buzz and she sent it an evil glare before silencing it and throwing off the bed covers while chiding herself for sounding like some forlorn creature in a Jane Austen novel. She would do what she had always done before MacGyver came into her life. She would put one foot in front of the other, doing what she had to do to get through the day and then do it all over again tomorrow, ignoring the constant ache of emptiness in the vicinity of her heart.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she survived the first half of the school day without running into Tim. She had been so foolish this past weekend. Perhaps he was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him? A girl could only hope! During her lunch break she knocked on Mrs. Varga's door and was invited in.

"I'm glad you dropped in, Joanna," the vice principal greeted her. "How was your weekend?"

"It was good. Really interesting," Jo offered. She had learned a long time ago that the word 'interesting' could carry myriad connotations to accurately describe just about any event. "But I came to discuss my contract with you."

"I was hoping that's why you were here," the older woman smiled and Joanna felt her stomach turn into a lead weight.

"When I agreed to take the full time position this semester, I did so with the understanding that it was only temporary. When I started working at Challengers, I promised I would work there full time during the summer and part time during the school year while still working here part time. I would like to continue to honor that original agreement." Jo bit her bottom lip as she awaited a reply.

"I must admit I'm disappointed," Mrs. Varga confessed. "You are a wonderful teacher and Lincoln High would benefit greatly if you signed on full time. However, I must commend you on your loyalty to your previous obligation with Challengers. I'll have a new, part time contract drawn up and you can sign it at the end of the week."

After thanking the vice principal, Joanna headed back to her classroom feeling as if a great burden had been lifted from her. By sending Mac away, it became her responsibility to step up to her duties at Challengers, especially since their continued funding depended on implementing new and creative programs. Lost in thought, she came within a hair's breadth of brushing against Tim O'Brien's shoulder as he passed her going in the opposite direction. A tight smile and barely-there nod was all the acknowledgement he gave her. And she was just fine with that.

Joanna barely waited until the students cleared the building at the end of the day before making her own escape. She was anxious to get to Challengers given her lack of assistance these past few weeks. Getting into her car, she turned on her cell phone out of routine. Her heart began to beat double time when she saw the tiny icon indicating she had a voice message. Everything had happened so fast between her and MacGyver that they never talked about when or if they would contact each other. Had he reached out to her? She punched in her password with trembling fingers and felt a pang of disappointment when she heard the familiar voice of Rebecca Williams asking her to please return the call but not giving any further details. Most likely the young woman was wanting to once again get Jo's advice on how to deal with her crumbling relationship with Sam. However, Jo was in no position to give advice when her own love life was in shambles. She sighed heavily, knowing she had to call Becca but dreading the conversation. With a fortifying breath, she hit the speed dial button she had designated for her friend.

"Hello?"

"Hi Becca, it's Joanna. I just got your message. What's up?"

"My editor just assigned me a new story and I was wondering if I could come up to Milwaukee to work on it. I could really use your help."

Okay, she had piqued Jo's interest. "Sure, what's the story about?"

"It's kinda weird. I'll explain everything when I see you. Can you pick me up at the train station tomorrow evening at seven?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Thanks Jo. I really appreciate this. I'll call if anything changes." The line went dead.

Joanna tried to put the odd conversation behind her as she entered Challengers and was greeted by a cheerful Rosie Garcia. She returned the greeting and headed towards her office, passing MacGyver's on the way. She was taken aback to see Cynthia seated at the desk, head lowered in concentration. She shouldn't be surprised to see the woman in there, especially since she planned to suggest that Cynthia now occupy it permanently with Mac gone. Another reminder of what she had to put behind her. Before she lost her nerve, she picked up her phone and called Lee Vang. His law firm had been growing and she needed his help. After briefly explaining her situation, he promised he would take care of the details and have something for her to sign in a few days. She blew out a breath as her head dropped into her hands.

XXXXX

Joanna arrived at the Amtrak station shortly before seven the following evening and waited on the platform where the Hiawatha commuter line would deposit its passengers. It wasn't long before the train glided to a stop and Becca disembarked, wearing a backpack and carrying a tattered suitcase.

"I'm so glad you came," Becca said as she set down her luggage and embraced Jo in a warm, friendly hug. "I hope I'm not too much of an imposition."

"Never!" Joanna gently scolded. "Though I keep forgetting you don't have a car."

Rebecca looked away shyly. "I don't really need one in the city. I can either walk or take the train to anyplace I need to go."

"Makes sense," Jo agreed. "But what about Cip? Is Sam watching him for you?"

"A colleague of mine at the Tribune has a home in the suburbs with a big fenced in yard and she loves dogs so she agreed to take him in while I'm gone. After staying at a place like that he'll probably hate going back to my dingy apartment." Becca dipped her head so her long brunette hair formed a curtain that covered her face from view.

"First of all, your place is _not_ dingy," Joanna told her firmly. "And secondly, your Cip's mom. He knows that and just wants to be wherever you are."

By now the two women had reached Jo's car. They tossed Becca's belongings in the Chevy's trunk before Joanna slid behind the wheel.

"Since Mac's gone you can stay at his place," Jo said, handing her friend a set of keys. "One is to the apartment and the other is to the Jeep. I figured you'd need a car since you came by train."

"Are you sure Mac won't mind?" Becca asked, reaching hesitantly for the offered keys.

Joanna thought about the times Penny and Jack had stayed at the apartment and borrowed Mac's Jeep. "I'm positive."

"When is he coming back?"

Jo fervently wished people would stop asking that question, but she supposed it was only natural.

"I don't know. Probably not for a while. Hasn't he been in touch with Sam?"

Joanna grimaced the moment the question left her lips. She had convinced herself that he was out of her life and didn't matter anymore, yet here she was, asking about him.

Becca shook her head. "He called last week to say he was going to L.A. to visit Jack but that's the last I heard."

"How are you and Sam doing?" Jo asked, steering the conversation away from herself. Ah, Sam. Though an adult himself, she'd never forget how happy he was when he discovered she was going to officially become his stepmother. Now, that never could be. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and gave Rebecca her undivided attention.

"We haven't seen a whole lot of each other," the younger woman admitted with a shrug. "You know, we've both been busy and stuff."

"Yeah, I know," Joanna replied with a sad smile.

Once Becca was settled in Mac's townhouse, Jo plopped down on the couch next to her.

"Now tell me. What's this assignment all about and how can I help."

Though not a professional writer, Joanna had taken a journalism course and had been a reporter on her high school newspaper. Coupled with being an English teacher, she was secretly hoping to try her hand at some amateur reporting.

"My editor wants me to do a story about my computer dating experiences," Becca answered, not meeting Jo's eyes.

"You signed up for a computer dating service?" Joanna asked, trying to keep her voice as normal as possible despite her shock.

Rebecca shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no! But he wants me to join this site on the internet where you write up a profile about yourself and e-mail back and forth with guys who are interested and even meet in person if you want."

"No offense, but that kinda sounds like a fluff piece. I thought you were an investigative reporter?"

"I was...am...and it _is_ a fluff piece," Becca admitted. "And before you ask, I totally messed up a big story I was on 'cause I was distracted by...I was distracted."

Jo quickly surmised that Becca had allowed her troubles with Sam to interfere with her work. "So what do you need me to do?"

"I was hoping you could put up a profile, too, and that way I could write about both our experiences. I mean, if Mac wouldn't mind. It would just be pretend."

Apparently MacGyver hadn't said anything about their breakup. "Mac won't mind," Joanna said flatly. "But this doesn't sound like my kinda thing." Scratch that. This was absolutely, positively _not_ her thing! After the debacle over the weekend with Tim and long lonely nights that followed, she knew the only man for her was MacGyver, but she had single-handedly shattered their relationship. No man could ever make her feel the way he had so why even bother to try and find someone new?

"Oh please!" Rebecca suddenly begged, grabbing Jo's arm. "I don't expect many, if any, guys to respond to my profile, but you'd get tons!"

Joanna's jaw dropped. Apparently the young reporter had no idea that Jo's experience with men was as non-existent as hers.

"Please?" Becca repeated sheepishly.

"Oh, all right," Jo sighed. "What can it hurt?"

"Terrific! When do you want to get started?"

Joanna glanced at her watch. "It's getting late and I have work tomorrow. Why don't you help out at Challengers until I get out of school and then I'll meet you at the club and we can work on it there?"

"That's perfect! Thank you _so_ much!" Becca exclaimed as she squeezed Joanna in a big hug.

Thursday afternoon, Jo hurried over to Challengers after school. She found Becca in a corner cuddling Frog.

"I didn't think I'd miss Cip this much already," the younger woman said, looking up guiltily. "I had trouble sleeping last night without him around."

"Why don't you take Frog back to the townhouse later," Joanna suggested as she reached down to ruffle his ear. "All the attention he gets around here gets in the way of his beauty sleep."

"That's a great idea! Thank you!" Becca exclaimed and Jo once again found herself in the young woman's solid embrace.

"No problem," Joanna smiled as she extricated herself from the hug. "C'mon in my office. I had Rosie set up an extra computer in there so we could work together." Becca beamed as they walked down the hall.

Once the two women had carefully typed in the web address Rebecca's editor had given her and provided all the basic information requested in order to become a member of the on-line dating site, Jo sat staring at the cursor blinking in the little box where she had been instructed to describe herself. Her brain froze and her command of the English language slid into oblivion. Her first attempt read like a resume. Her second sounded like an obituary.

"Let's see what each other wrote," Becca urged as Joanna completed her third attempt. She turned the screen and her friend's face scrunched as she read the short paragraph.

"That makes you sound old and boring!" Rebecca protested.

"Maybe I _am_ old and boring!" Joanna couldn't help but laugh. "Let me see yours."

Jo studied the self-description Becca had composed and bit her lip. "This doesn't sound a thing like you," she observed.

Becca slouched and looked down at the floor before quickly rallying. "I have an idea! I'll write your description and you can write mine!"

Joanna glanced at her friend skeptically before agreeing. After all, sacrifices had to be made in the name of journalistic integrity. With that step successfully completed, they came to the part that asked them to describe their ideal mate. Both started typing without any hesitation.

"Okay, let me see what ya got," Jo demanded. Her face fell as she read what Becca had written. "You know you just described Sam, don't you?"

The young woman nodded sadly as she bent over Joanna's computer. "And you described Mac perfectly," she pointed out.

They simultaneously heaved a sigh. "Maybe we should be a little more flexible about what we're looking for," Jo offered. "I mean, the whole idea is to get guys to talk to us, right?"

"Right," Becca echoed as they each returned to their own console, deleted their detailed list of the perfect man and replaced it with a general description just about any guy could relate to.

"Now what?" Jo asked.

Becca shrugged. "I guess we just sit and wait for messages."

The following day was Friday. Joanna stepped into Mrs. Varga's office right after school to sign her contract for the upcoming year.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider?" the vice principal practically pleaded.

"I'm sure," Jo replied with a tight smile. She had one more stop to make before heading to Challengers.

A few minutes later she entered the law office of Lee Vang and his associates. He offered Joanna a seat before pulling out a form in quadruplicate full of legalize. He began to go over the information when she put out her hand to stop him.

"You don't have to waste your time. I trust that everything is in order. Just show me where to sign." The sooner she got this over with the better.

"Are you sure this is want you want?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Jo nodded firmly and scrawled her signature on the bottom line. "It's what needs to be done," she assured him, sealing her fate.

When Joanna finally arrived at Challengers, it was to find Rebecca pacing back and forth in their now shared office. The poor girl was literally wringing her hands.

"Becca, what's wrong?!" she asked, quickly closing the door behind her.

"Thank goodness you're here! I don't know what to do!"

"What is it? What's happened?" Jo demanded.

"First thing this morning I checked the dating website to see if I had gotten any responses, and there was a message from this guy. We've been messaging back and forth through the site all day and he seems really nice, but now he wants to meet me this weekend!"

"Isn't that a good thing?" Joanna asked. "It'll make for a great story."

"I know! I just didn't expect someone to actually want to go out with me! Oh, this is all happening so fast!"

While Becca had been talking, Jo had been thinking. She wanted her friend to write a good article, but she also hated to see her so upset.

"Calm down," she instructed. "I might have an idea, but first I need to see if any guys wrote to me."

Joanna logged onto the dating site and gasped when the little envelope icon indicated she had ten messages. She clicked to open her mailbox and read the responses. Soon Becca was peering over her shoulder, reading along. Some of the messages caused them to groan in disgust while others made them giggle, but none of them really appealed to Jo.

"When is the deadline for your story?" Joanna asked.

"My editor wants it on his desk by the end of next week."

"That doesn't give you a lot of time."

"I know," Becca moaned.

Jo quickly glanced through her messages again. "This guy doesn't sound too bad," she said, pointing to the screen.

"You're not seriously thinking of asking to meet him, are you?" Becca gaped.

"On one condition," Joanna responded with a sly smile.

Rebecca's eyes grew wide. "Oh! You want us to go on a double date!"

"Not exactly." Jo grimaced as she watched her friend's face fall. "I don't think the guys would care for that, but we can arrange to be at the same place at the same time," she explained. "What do you say?"

"I say it's a great idea!" Becca replied with a full-fledged smile. "And this way I'll have _two_ experiences to write about!"

Through a series of electronic messages, it was decided that the dates would be pizza and then a play at a local college Saturday night. Becca drove to Joanna's house where the two women got ready.

"You're not gonna wear that, are you?" Rebecca asked looking pointedly at Joanna's engagement ring.

Jo forced a chuckle. "I guess that would look kinda weird," she agreed, slowly pulling off the gold and diamond band and reverently placing it on her dresser.

"Now you're sure Mac's okay with this?"

"I'm sure," Joanna replied flatly. "What about Sam?"

"Pfft! Like he cares what I do!" Unfortunately, the sheen in her eyes belied her carefree words.

Arriving at the restaurant, Jo and Rebecca parked their respective vehicles several spaces apart and entered through different doors. Joanna easily recognized her date from his picture on the dating site and greeted him cordially before the hostess led them to their table. A few minutes later, Jo watched as Becca directed the same hostess to seat her and her date at a booth just across the way. When the waiter approached to take their order, Joanna's heart twisted as the man across from her asked for pineapple on his half of the pizza. That had always been Mac's signature topping when they first started getting to know each other. At times she swore he ordered it just to see her reaction. When she finished her last bite of dinner, she heard Becca's laugh and looked to see her and her date both leaning forward, sharing a dessert.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waiter asked.

"No," Jo replied quickly. "We need to get going or we'll miss the opening curtain," she explained to her date.

They all took separate cars to the college's small theater and Joanna froze when she saw the poster advertising the production they were about to see: _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_. Her heart raced and her hands turned cold as she spent the next two and a half hours sitting beside a man she barely knew watching the very same play she had seen with MacGyver and had starred Penny Parker. Unbidden thoughts of her and Mac kissing in the last row assaulted her until she excused herself and hurried to the restroom hoping to regain her composure. When she returned to her seat, her date appeared concerned, asked if she was feeling ill and if she would like to leave. Though she declined his offer since she had promised to be there for Becca, she had to give him points for thoughtfulness. When the actors had taken their final bow and the house lights came on, her date escorted her to her car, giving her a chaste peck on the cheek before heading toward his own vehicle. Nothing was said to indicate they would ever see each other again. Jo had just slid into the driver's seat when her cell phone trilled. It was Becca.

"Come on over tomorrow afternoon and we'll compare notes?" Her friend's voice sounded as listless as Jo felt.

"Sounds good," she confirmed, before starting her car and heading home.

XXXXX

The following day Joanna pulled her car into the driveway beside Mac's Jeep. She noticed a strange truck parked out front just as the front door to Charlie's half of the duplex opened and a young couple emerged and shook hands with a man she had come to recognize as the real estate agent. Apparently the house was still on the market. Becca met Joanna at the threshold with a glass of iced tea. Though not her beverage of choice, she accepted the cold drink and took a sip before stowing her purse and jacket and settling on the couch. As usual, Frog was napping under the coffee table. Becca soon plopped down on the other end of the couch, pencil and notebook in hand.

"So tell me everything," she directed.

Joanna did her best to relay, in detail, the events of her date the night before. Unfortunately, there was precious little to tell.

"Sounds kinda dull," Becca observed. Joanna had to agree. The irony was that she and Mac had gone on the exact same date about a year ago and it had been anything but dull.

"What about you?" Jo asked, attempting to change the conversation. "Did you have a good time?" If Becca's laughter in the restaurant was any indication, she had had an enjoyable evening.

"It was fine."

"Just 'fine'?"

"Well, I mean, he was nice and all. Really cute and fun to talk to, but he just wasn't-" Becca slammed her mouth closed and stared at the notes in front of her.

"He just wasn't Sam," Joanna concluded softly.

Rebecca nodded, tears now sliding freely down her cheeks. She didn't even try to wipe them away.

"I love him, Jo! I love him so much!" she sobbed. "But he doesn't think I know what love is. He doesn't know how wrong he is!" she hiccupped.

"Who was it?" Joanna asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Huh?" Becca looked up, eyes already red and slightly swollen.

"Your first love. Who was he?"

Rebecca stayed silent for several moments as if pondering the question and Jo was afraid she wouldn't answer it. Of course, that was her prerogative, but Joanna couldn't help but feel it was an important story for her to tell. Finally the younger woman broke the silence that hung heavy in the room.

"It was when I was back in Santa Barbara. Remember when I told you I worked as a secretary at the police department and sometimes helped out the detectives?" Jo nodded but did not speak. "Well, he was one of the detectives. His name was Carlton. That's why I spell Cip's name the way I do. The "C" is for him. Anyway, when we first met he came off as being kinda surly and had a reputation for not having much of a sense of humor. But it didn't take long before I realized there was a lot more to him...he was just hiding it. He was significantly older than me and divorced. He really freaked out when he discovered how young I was." Becca stopped and studied her fingernails, absently picking at the cuticle. "I was nineteen and he was my first kiss. The first guy I ever really loved."

"What happened?" Joanna asked quietly.

"Everything was great for a while. We got in a nice routine and would banter back and forth, especially at work. But then, I don't know. Stuff happened. We both got busy. I was juggling work and school. It sounds cliché, but I guess we just grew apart."

"I take it you never told Sam any of this."

Becca shook her head.

"Maybe you should."

Joanna didn't know how long they sat there, not saying a word, but the next thing she knew the room was swathed in twilight from the setting sun. Frog's toenails clicked on the wooden kitchen floor as he most likely searched for his supper. Jo was about to push herself off the couch when Becca asked the question she had been hoping to avoid.

"There's something going on between Mac and you, isn't there? Something bad."

"Is it that obvious?" Jo asked.

Becca shrugged. "Probably only to me. I tend to pick up on stuff like that. Like the way you took your ring off before your date. As if you may not ever put it back on again. And when you talk about him your voice is emotionless."

Joanna sank back onto the cushions and sighed. "Considering everything you just told me, I suppose you deserve to know. But this has to stay between you and me, okay?"

Rebecca nodded vigorously and turned to face her friend.

"I told Mac to go to L.A. so we could have some time and space to reevaluate our relationship. I needed to figure out how I fit in his life and I've decided I don't."

"Oh no, Joanna!" Becca cried. "You and Mac were made for each other!"

"It might look like that to you," Jo replied sadly. "But I'm not the kind of girl he needs. I had to make him realize that...make _myself_ realize that...before it was too late."

Becca's eyes were filled with anguish. "Are you saying you're...you mean you're not…?" She couldn't say the words aloud and neither could Jo.

"Yeah. But please don't tell Sam. Mac will tell him when the time is right."

Both women sat in silence until Rebecca spoke softly. "I plan on taking the train back to Chicago tomorrow afternoon. Do you think you could drive me to the station?"

"Sure," Jo confirmed, a lump in her throat.

XXXXX

Joanna hurried home from work Monday afternoon. Once upstairs, she pulled a wrinkled slip of paper from her wallet before crouching on the floor and pulling out a long, rectangular white box from underneath her bed. Despite her best effort, she couldn't resist taking the top off and running her hands over the smooth, expensive fabric of what would have been her wedding dress. She felt oddly numb and incredibly empty as she gathered up the parcel and headed back out.

Jo picked Rebecca up at the townhouse and drove her to the train station. There was little conversation between them. Joanna found a parking space and popped her trunk. Becca eyed her questioningly as she lifted the large white box out of the trunk, the receipt taped to the top.

"I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor and return this for me?" Joanna knew Becca knew what was in the box so she provided no further explanation. "Just make sure Sam doesn't know."

Becca hugged her friend close, tears gathering in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this? It makes everything seem so...so final!"

"It's what needs to be," Jo stated, taking a step back.

Rebecca slung her backpack over her shoulder, tucked the package under her arm and lifted her suitcase with the other before wordlessly heading toward the boarding platform.

Joanna watched her friend walk away before turning back to her car. She slammed the trunk closed and felt as though she was slamming closed a chapter in her life. A very wonderful, but not meant to be, chapter.


	45. Secrets Shared

**Secrets Shared**

Rebecca quickly found a seat on the train, balancing the awkward package on her lap and absently stroking its lid as she watched Joanna slam her trunk closed before getting into her car. Becca's heart ached for her friend. There must be _something_ she could do to make Jo see that her and MacGyver were destined to be together, but what? Worse, she had promised Joanna she would keep her secret and Becca never betrayed a friend.

The return trip to Chicago seemed to take twice as long, and by the time the train screeched to a stop beside the platform, Becca was exhausted. She hailed a cab, a luxury she rarely afforded herself, but she did not feel like dealing with riding The El, especially at this time of night and with arms full of luggage. The first thing she did upon arriving at her apartment was call her friend and arrange to have Cip brought home first thing tomorrow morning. She was placing the receiver back into the cradle when she noticed the light on her answering machine blinking indicating she had a message. Her heart leapt. Could it be? No one else ever called. It was with an odd mixture of relief and disappointment that Becca listened to the grainy recording of Connie Thornton's voice inviting her to a party that Friday in honor of Pete finally getting his cast removed. During the time that she had known them, the couple had become like surrogate parents to her. But how could she go and have a good time when she knew Sam would certainly be there as well, and maybe not alone.

The following morning Becca slipped into her cubicle, but not before feeling Sam Malloy's eyes on her.

"Where have you been?!" he demanded sharply.

His unexpected outburst startled her and she visibly jumped. "None of your business!" she shot back.

"C'mon Becca, don't be like that." He gentled his tone.

Rebecca turned to face him, putting a hand on her hip. "I'm surprised you even noticed I was gone, what with all your dates and everything!" she spat.

"Of course I noticed," he said. "I was worried sick!"

"You could've called if you were so concerned," Becca retorted, venom in her usually sweet voice.

"I know," he replied, running a hand through his hair as she had so often seen his father do when he was upset or frustrated. "But after I thought about it I figured you probably just wanted some time alone."

Rebecca straightened her spine and composed herself before responding. "If you must know, I went to Milwaukee to work on a story I was assigned. I needed Joanna to help out with some research."

"What about my dad?" Sam asked.

"What about him?" Becca queried in return, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Was he there?"

"No, but Jo let me stay in his apartment," she replied flippantly.

Sam's gaze found the floor and his annoyance with Rebecca quickly morphed into concern for his dad. "I haven't heard from him since he left for Los Angeles and he's not answering my calls. It's not like him to stay away this long, especially now that he has Challengers."

"I'm sure he's fine," Becca assured him. "He probably just needed a vacation."

She stood with her arms crossed in front of her, chewing her lip, and hoping against hope that Sam didn't question her further about MacGyver's absence.

"Are you going to Pete's party on Friday?" she asked, eager to change the subject.

"Yeah, sure. Aren't you?"

Becca shrugged. "Maybe. If I don't have other plans."

"You know they consider you family. They'll miss you if you don't show. We can drive over together."

"You mean you're not bringing a date?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "No. I'm not bringing a date. Be ready by six."

XXXXX

Wednesday morning Rebecca arrived at work before anyone else...or so she thought. A pineapple Slurpee, still cold, sat in the middle of her desk. Her lips formed a small smile of their own accord. A peace offering from Sam who was nowhere to be found. This proved to become a pattern over the next couple days. Not only did Sam woo her with her favorite beverage, but she would often look up from her work to find him staring at her. Sometimes he would quickly turn away, but other times he allowed his gaze to linger. She found herself doing the same and wondered if the old adage was true. Perhaps absence really _did_ make the heart grow fonder.

Friday afternoon, Rebecca left work early to get ready for Pete's party. She put on a pair of her best jeans and her softest oversized sweater. Her hands shook as she attempted to apply a meager amount of rarely used make-up. Her stomach dipped when Sam rang her doorbell promptly at six o'clock. They drove over to the Thornton's in relative, albeit comfortable, silence. A weak electrical charge seemed to stretch between them, but neither dared broach the subject of their fractured relationship. It had been about a month since the pair had argued about Sam's supposed dinner-date with a colleague and Becca's lack of experience with the opposite sex yet neither seemed inclined to bring the subject out in the open.

Once the foursome had consumed Connie's scrumptious homemade dinner, the matriarch shooed Sam and a still-limping Pete out of the kitchen while she and Becca cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher.

"So, when are you going to tell me what's going on between you and Sam?" Connie asked as casually as if she was commenting on the weather.

"What do you mean?" Rebecca replied innocently.

Connie sighed and leveled a look that would put Becca's mom to shame. "For the last several weeks, whenever Sam comes over he's always alone, and rather broody I might add. And whenever Pete or I ask about you he always gives a vague response. I can only assume you two had a lover's quarrel. I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it."

But Becca didn't want to talk about it. At least that's what she told herself. Being around Sam these past few days had been sweet torture. Her yearning for him continued to grow, but nothing could ever come of it. He would always find her lacking. A stray tear trickled down her cheek. Connie, astute as ever, whipped out a tissue and handed it to her.

"Talk," the older woman commanded. And Rebecca talked. She talked about the argument she and Sam had had. She talked about the phone calls to MacGyver and Joanna. She talked about Santa Barbara.

"Have you told Sam about this?" Connie asked gently.

Becca shook her head.

"Don't you think he deserves to know?"

"That's the same thing Joanna said, but it shouldn't matter," Becca mumbled.

"You're right. In a perfect world it shouldn't matter," Connie remarked. "But this is an imperfect world with imperfect people. Talk to him, Becca."

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"She's drivin' me nuts, Pete! She still won't talk to me and I don't know what to do about it!"

Pete chuckled as he repositioned himself in his recliner. "Ah, young love!"

"It's not funny," Sam grumbled.

"I'm sorry," Pete said. "But don't you think this is something you should be discussing with your father?"

"I'm trying, but he won't answer my calls anymore! All he said is that I should apologize even if I didn't do anything wrong!"

"That's sound advice. Perhaps Mac is finally starting to understand women after all," Pete mused.

"I should never have gone out to dinner with Susan," Sam moaned.

"Ah, so she has a name."

"It was no big deal!" Sam exclaimed, utterly frustrated with this whole chain of events. "We had both worked late and were hungry. I don't need Becca's permission to have a meal with a friend!"

"Is that what this is really all about?" Pete inquired.

"No," Sam ground out, hanging his head so his dark bangs fell in his face. "We started fighting and some things got said that probably shouldn't have."

Pete's eyebrows rose but he remained silent.

"Fine," Sam sighed. "I said some things to Becca I shouldn't have."

"Did you try and apologize?"

"Not really," Sam reluctantly admitted.

"You might wanna give it a shot," Pete suggested.

Before Sam could reply, Connie breezed into the room carrying a gaily decorated chocolate cake as Becca followed behind with plates and plastic forks.

"Is everyone ready for dessert?" Pete's wife asked cheerfully and was greeted with eager nods. Suddenly, she paused in the middle of cutting the cake and frowned. "Oh no! I forgot to get ice cream!"

Pete sent a sightless eye-roll in her direction. "I've been doing nothing but sitting in this chair for the past six weeks. The doctor said I gained ten pounds! We don't need ice cream!"

"Nonsense, Peter! We can't have cake without ice cream! Perhaps Sam and Becca wouldn't mind running to the store and picking some up."

"Connie…" her husband warned.

"I don't mind. I'll go," Sam replied. "Becca, you wanna ride along?"

The poor girl looked like a deer caught in headlights. He belatedly regretted putting her on the spot like that.

"Sure," she agreed with a half-hearted shrug.

A few minutes later Sam pulled into the grocery store parking lot. He turned off the ignition but instead of opening the door he turned to Becca.

"You know Connie set this up, right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Becca replied. "I like her a lot but sometimes she's not very subtle. You know you didn't have to bring me along if you didn't want to."

"I wanted to. You didn't have to come."

"I wanted to," Becca said shyly.

Sam's heart flopped in his chest. It was now or never. "I'm really sorry for the things I said to you. I don't blame you for getting upset with me. It's just that I felt like things were happening pretty fast and I guess it scared me a little. Now I know how my dad must've felt about relationships when he was my age."

"Have you been dating other women?" Becca asked, eyes downcast.

"I went out to dinner with a couple, but I didn't enjoy it," Sam confessed. "What about you?"

"I got assigned to do a story on computer dating. I ended up meeting a guy." Rebecca finally looked up and caught his eye. "I didn't enjoy it either. He wasn't you."

Sam felt immensely relieved, but one thing still niggled at him. "I was wrong to accuse you of not knowing your feelings for me."

"Yeah, you were," Becca agreed, surprising him with her candor. "I need to tell you about someone I met when I moved to Santa Barbara. His name was Carlton…"

By the time Rebecca finished her story, Sam's heart hurt for her. In his fear and frustration he had erroneously assumed that Becca had been unscathed by love's wrath. Knowing differently only made him admire her more. She was the most giving, genuine, gentle person he had ever met. She was also intelligent, stubborn, courageous, and always willing to stand up for what she believed in. And she had taken a chance by opening her heart to him. He was indeed humbled.

"Becca," he began, his voice raspy with emotion, "I'm so sorry I ever questioned your feelings for me and even more sorry that I felt the need to run from them. Do you think you can forgive me?"

"I might be persuaded to," she drawled, and Sam mentally added 'sassy' to the list of things he loved about her. He slowly leaned over the center console and was delighted when he she met him half-way. In the semi-darkness of the parking lot they shared the sweetest kiss he had ever known.

"Well it took you long enough!" Pete complained when Becca and Sam returned with the ice cream. "What'd you do? Make it yourself?"

The couple glanced at Connie who sent them a knowing smile before turning on her husband. "Peter!"

"I'm sorry," he sighed, absently massaging his healing leg. "Guess my first physical therapy session took more outta me than I thought. Let's cut that cake!"

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The rest of the evening passed quickly and before she knew it Sam was escorting Becca to her apartment door.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked shyly, not quite sure what she wanted his answer to be. Sam's apology and the kiss they had shared in his car had really muddled her brain.

"I would," he replied with a sincerity she hadn't heard before.

As soon as Becca opened the door, Cip came bounding down the hall to greet them, welcoming Sam with a wiggling behind and slobbery doggy kisses.

"Hey buddy! I've missed ya!" Sam told the dog as he bent to ruffle the mutt's ears.

Cip wasn't the only one who had missed Sam. Becca had missed him immensely though she didn't allow herself to realize that until tonight.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she called from the kitchen as he made himself comfortable on her couch.

"Naw, I'm good," he replied, glancing around the eclectically decorated apartment.

Becca returned to the living room intending to sit in the overstuffed chair facing the picture window, but as she walked by Sam's hand snaked out and caught her wrist, gently tugging her down beside him.

"There's a Star Trek marathon on the retro channel this weekend," he informed her.

She sighed. "I know, but I don't have cable."

"I do," Sam said matter-of-factly. "I thought we could watch it together. Ya know, make a day of it."

Rebecca's heart flopped and she was sure she was blushing. "Th...that sounds nice."

"We can order pizza," he offered. "With pineapple."

He flashed her a devastatingly sexy grin and she was helpless to refuse. "Count me in," she replied softly, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt. From a distance she heard Sam's voice penetrate the fog that had enveloped her brain.

"What's that?"

She followed his gaze to the large white box sitting on the coffee table.

"Um, just something I need to return," she muttered.

Sam leaned forward and studied the receipt taped to the top. Becca cringed. What a lousy time for his investigative instincts to kick in.

"You bought something at a bridal boutique?" he asked, turning toward her, eyebrows raised.

"No!" she answered instinctively before realizing her error. "I mean...yes. Something for a friend," she blurted out.

"Which friend?" Sam's eyes narrowed and he was now in full interview mode.

"Ummm…" Rebecca fidgeted as she tried to come up with something to say without giving away Joanna's secret. Lying didn't come easily to her. "If I tell you, you have got to promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Understand?"

"Fine. I won't say anything," Sam conceded.

Rebecca took a long, deep breath before speaking. "It's Joanna's wedding dress. She asked me to return it for her."

"Why? Did she decide she doesn't like it?"

Good grief! Why were men so dense?!

"Something like that," Becca shrugged. Sam's eyes bore into her until she couldn't stand it anymore. "Oh, all right! She changed her mind about marrying your dad!" she exclaimed.

"What?!" Sam bellowed as he rocketed off the couch. "You can't be serious!" He jammed both hands through his hair and began pacing.

Rebecca sat quietly, hands cradled in her lap, picking at her cuticles.

"You _are_ serious," Sam said as he deflated back onto the cushions. "How did this happen? They're crazy about each other! My dad didn't do something stupid, did he?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"Then tell me, Becca! What happened?!"

She felt unbidden tears welling in her eyes. "I can't! I've said too much already!"

"Then tell me the rest!"

Becca took a few moments to compose herself. "Okay. But you have to keep your original promise not to tell anyone. Especially Jo and MacGyver."

"I don't think I can do that. This is my family we're talkin' about."

Rebecca stared at him long and hard until he relented. "Fine, I won't say a word."

Once she had Sam's promise she proceeded to tell him everything Joanna had told her and, quite frankly, it felt good to share the burden she'd been carrying.

"Wow. How does my dad feel about all this?"

"I don't know. Jo hasn't heard from him since he left. Apparently no one has."

"But he's comin' back, right? I mean, they're meant for each other! He has to convince her to marry him!"

All Becca could do was stare at the floor. She had no answers.

"There must be something I can do," Sam muttered.

"No!" She grabbed his arm and pleaded with her eyes. "I promised Jo I wouldn't tell and you promised me you wouldn't tell and if you do something they'll know we told!" she sobbed.

Sam turned and gathered Becca close. "Alright. I won't say anything," he sighed, kissing the top of her head. "I just hope my dad doesn't screw this up."

"If it's any consolation, I can guarantee you that Joanna still loves him," Becca mumbled against his chest.

"And I know my dad still loves her. We just have to hope _they_ know that."


	46. Hello, Goodbye?

**Hello, Goodbye?**

 **April 11, 1998**

Joanna stood in the darkened church, her bright pink outfit belying her dour mood. Of all the Masses she ushered for throughout the year, the Easter Vigil was the worst. For forty-five minutes before the liturgy began she was stationed in one of the vestibules opening doors and handing out candles and orders of worship to parishioners, an odd juggling act that made her appreciate the octopus. Now, she listened as Pastor Mike prepared the Easter Candle and blessed the fire. Soon, it would be her duty to light her own small candle from the sacred flame and, in turn, light the candles now held by the congregation. She soon recognized her cue and walked up and down the aisle with her small, white, taper sharing the holy fire with others to pass on, all the while hoping the movement wouldn't extinguish her own little flame. Upon reaching the back pew, she carefully guided her candle to the one held in the large, strong hand of a gentleman shrouded in shadow. Once his candle was lit, she could breathe a sigh of relief having accomplished her small mission. Instead, she looked up at the man and had to swallow a gasp. The dim light softened his normally high cheekbones and chiseled jaw, the reflection of the fire dancing in eyes that searched her own. He took a step sideways, a silent invitation, and she hesitated just a moment before moving to stand beside him. MacGyver had returned.

As lectors read passages from the Bible and cantors led the faithful in hymns, all Joanna could do was focus on the man next to her who dutifully followed the proceedings, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on her. Handsomely dressed in a light gray suit, she could feel the heat emanating from him even though they never actually touched. Her heart raced and her hands trembled to the point where she considered blowing out the candle she held before she accidentally dropped it and burned down the church! To her amazement, she somehow managed to sit, stand, and kneel at all the appropriate times. When she dared to glance around the sanctuary, she saw her father, also an usher, standing sentinel in the main aisle, oblivious to the tilt-a-whirl of emotions his daughter was experiencing. In the section of pews across from her, Joanna's mother smiled like the cat who swallowed the canary, no question whose side _she_ was on.

Jo was relieved when it came time for her to leave her seat and pass the collection basket and even more grateful when the longest Mass of the year concluded and she could return to the safety of her position in the vestibule to hand out the weekly parish bulletin, collect the used candles, and bid a happy farewell to her fellow parishioners. Unfortunately, much to her dismay, MacGyver followed her out into the small gathering area. As the final hymn was sung and the congregates began to pour out of the church, she couldn't help but watch with admiration as he graciously helped her with her duties and engaged in light-hearted conversation with people he didn't even know, a genuine smile lighting up his face. More than once Joanna heard the loud clearing of a throat or felt a gentle whack to her leg with the tip of a cane reminding her to press the elevator button. All too soon, the people were gone and she was left alone with MacGyver. He stood in front of her, refusing to be ignored.

"You came back," she remarked in little more than a whisper.

"I said I would," Mac replied with far more conviction.

Joanna sighed as frustration, and resignation, mounted. "I didn't want you to come back because of a promise. I wanted you to come back because you _chose_ to."

"What makes you think I didn't?"

Jo turned away and shook her head while MacGyver jammed his splayed fingers through this unruly hair. "Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked.

Joanna forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"Tomorrow then. Come on over to my place."

"On Easter Sunday?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Do you and your parents have plans?"

Yes! She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him that she had plans for the rest of her life in order to avoid the inevitable conversation she, herself, had created. But she was a horrible liar. Maybe even worse than Mac.

"No," she mumbled.

"Good! Come hungry. I'll make pancakes."

"Fine," she muttered before turning her back to him and walking off in search of her family.

That night Joanna laid in bed, curled up on her side, watching the glowing digits of her alarm clock tick away the hours. She should have just bitten the bullet and agreed to talk with MacGyver after Mass instead of prolonging the agony. Sometime before dawn she grew even more restless. Something wasn't right. Mac had been too nice. Too understanding. Had he not received the letter she had signed off on a week ago? Oh, why couldn't he have just called her from California and asked her to pack up his stuff and send it to him? She consoled herself with the fact that, if everything went as planned tomorrow, this would be the final time she would speak to him before starting to rebuild the life she had shattered.

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Easter morning brought heavy gray clouds, cool temperatures, and the threat of rain. Despite the dreary weather, MacGyver stood looking out his front door, anxious for Joanna to arrive. He could hardly wait to see the look on her face when she discovered the surprise he had for her. He wanted nothing more than to turn back time to when they were happily in love, before fears and doubts had assailed her. Without a time machine, this was the best he could do.

It wasn't long until Jo pulled her Chevy into his driveway. He watched as she exited the car and began to make her way toward his apartment before she caught sight of the For Sale sign on the lawn. She regarded it for a moment before he greeted her at the door, not caring if he appeared eager to see her again. The sooner they got things back to normal the better. She offered him a polite, wordless smile before stepping over the threshold.

"I see Charlie finally sold the place," she remarked casually.

"Yeah, he said it happened last week. Kinda a spur of the moment thing, I guess." Mac ushered Joanna to the kitchen table in anticipation of their brunch.

"Did he tell you anything about your new landlord?"

"Actually, I already met him," MacGyver replied, busying himself in the kitchen to hide his smirk. "He seems like a nice guy. About my age, I guess, and looking to put down some roots. He's moved around a lot and decided it's time to find a place to call home."

"So he's single, then," Jo interjected.

"He's engaged." Joanna frowned. "What?" he asked.

"Won't the place be a little small once he gets married and his wife moves in? Or are they already living together?"

"His fiancé is staying with her folks for the meantime, and we actually talked about some ways to make more space for them."

"Oh," Jo replied meekly, but Mac wasn't to be deterred. He went over to the bookcase-lined wall that separated the two apartments.

"This is a load-bearing wall, so he can't tear it down completely, but he can get creative with doorways to open up the area. Same goes for upstairs."

"So then you'll be moving out?" There was a disturbingly hopeful tone to her voice and MacGyver was disappointed she hadn't caught on to what he was trying to tell her.

"Don't ya get it, Jo?" he asked, reaching for her hands and pulling her to her feet. "I'm the guy! _I_ bought Charlie's house for us!"

"But why?" Mac's heart dropped at the confusion in her eyes.

He led her to the couch where they sat side-by-side, still holding hands.

"I spent the last two weeks in Mission City and it got me to thinking. It's time I got a place, a real home, that I know will always be there for me. For us. A place to put down roots and make a life. You've been questioning my commitment to you. Well, here it is. I don't know how else to prove that I'm not goin' anywhere. That I don't _wanna_ go anywhere."

"It's a done deal then?" Jo asked cautiously.

MacGyver shook his head. "I just got back in town yesterday so I need to go sign the papers tomorrow, but I was able to do everything else by phone and Charlie vouched for me so the real estate agent agreed to put the 'Sold' sign up so I could surprise you."

"You shouldn't have done that, Mac. Please don't sign those papers tomorrow," she all but begged, pulling away from him to go stare out the patio doors at the drizzle that had begun to fall.

MacGyver was momentarily speechless. He never expected her to react to his news like this! As he got off the couch and made his way toward her he realized his mistake.

"Aw, baby," he crooned, gently taking her shoulders and turning her to face him. "I'm sorry. I should've figured you'd want a new place that we picked out together."

Her gaze met his as tears welled in her eyes. "It isn't that," she insisted. "I love this place. It feels like home. But that's just it. We can't be together. I can't let you marry me."

Mac's breath caught and it felt as if a thousand swords were piercing his lungs. Before he could form a cohesive thought, there was a knock at his front door. Joanna turned and continued to stare out at the rain.

"Hope this isn't a bad time," Charlie greeted him, standing on the front stoop, umbrella in hand. "I noticed you were home and thought I'd bring your mail over."

"Thanks," Mac muttered, preparing to close the door.

"I can't tell you how happy I am that you've decided to buy this place," Charlie continued. "I hated the thought of handing it over to a stranger. Guess I'm just a sentimental old fool!"

"Nonsense! I'd feel the same way," Mac assured the older man. "And thanks for this," he said, holding up the pile of envelopes. Charlie simply nodded and headed next door.

MacGyver was about to toss his mail on the kitchen counter and go talk some sense into Joanna when the return address on the top letter caught his eye. 'Lee Vang and Associates, Attorneys at Law'. Mac tore open the envelope and skimmed the contract inside. He felt as if he had taken a sucker punch to his gut. He read the contract again, this time it made his blood boil.

"What in the hell is _this_!" he yelled across the room to Joanna who whipped her head around, eyes wide with surprise. He couldn't recall ever having used even a mild expletive in her presence and he tried not to use them at all, but this occasion seemed to call for it.

"You want me to sign away all my rights to Challengers?!" No way! This couldn't be happening!

Joanna's eyes sparked, her tears replaced with fire. "When you didn't come back I had to make sure that Challengers was protected!" she yelled back, stalking toward him.

"But I had promised to come home!"

"And how could I be sure of that!" she spat. "Days, weeks passed and you didn't even bother to call! What was I supposed to think?! I had to make some hard decisions. I turned down a summer teaching placement and full-time position next fall so I could take your place at the club while you were off gallivanting around Los Angeles!"

MacGyver's head was spinning, caught in an emotional whirlpool. "First of all," he hollered, his voice rising. "I was _not_ 'gallivanting'! Secondly, _you're_ the one who told me to go to L.A. in the first place!"

"But you could've stayed!" she shouted, even though they were now just feet apart.

" _What?!_ "

"You could've stayed and fought for me. For our relationship. But you took the easy way out. Just like you always do when things get serious!"

Mac took a deep breath and tried to rein in his emotions.

"So let me get this straight," he said, his voice calmer. "You told me to leave, but you really wanted me to stay?"

"No! I wanted you to go so I could have some time to think things over!"

"You're not making any sense, Joanna!" MacGyver exclaimed.

"I know that!" she replied vehemently. "I also know I'm not the girl for you!"

She dug in her pocket, pulled out his engagement ring, and slapped it into the palm of his hand before grabbing her coat and purse and stomping out the door, slamming it shut behind her with a finality that just about brought Mac to his knees.

XXXXX

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Cynthia remarked from where she stood just inside the doorway to MacGyver's office at Challengers. "It's good to have you back."

"I'm glad someone thinks so," he mumbled from behind his desk as he scrubbed his face with his hands. He had spent a sleepless night on his couch and had arrived at work shortly after dawn unable to keep the events of the previous evening a bay.

"Did you and Joanna get a chance to talk?"

"Yeah."

"So then you know about the project she came up with for the kids," she assumed.

"Um, we didn't talk about work."

"Oh," Cynthia frowned. "Well, I don't want to steal her thunder so you'll have to wait and hear about it from her, but she's been spending every spare minute on it and I think it'll really impress the Phoenix board members."

"That's great," Mac replied flatly.

The hours crawled by as MacGyver waited for Joanna to arrive. Four o'clock came and went and he began to worry that she would stay away from Challengers in order to stay away from him. Another hour passed before he heard her breathlessly greet Rosie at the reception desk.

"I'm sorry I'm so late, but there was an emergency faculty meeting after school," Jo explained.

The two women proceeded to exchange pleasantries before Joanna headed for her office, not even glancing in MacGyver's direction. He gave her a few minutes to get settled before appearing in her doorway.

"Can we talk?" he asked softly.

"We talked last night. I have nothing more to say," came the curt response.

"We yelled last night," he clarified. "And I _do_ have more to say."

Joanna looked up from organizing the papers on her desk. Bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them testified that her night hadn't been any better than his. Mac entered her office and took a seat across from her. Suddenly, all the fancy words and phrases he had mulled over in his brain all day vanished and he was left with nothing but the simple truth.

"I love you, Joanna, and I want to marry you," he declared. "Ever since I left, all I could think about was coming home to you and picking up where we left off. But I respect you too much to force you to feel something you don't. Tell me you don't love me. Tell me you truly don't want to marry me, and I'll leave you alone. I won't buy the townhouse and I'll hire someone to replace me here and help you out. Just say the word and I'll disappear, but know that I will _always_ love you."

An errant tear rolled down Jo's cheek and Mac reached across the desk to wipe it away with his thumb. Her skin was soft and warm and he savored the moment. Would this be the last time she allowed him an intimate gesture? His heart pounded in his ears as he waited for her response.

"I love you too. And I do want to marry you," she confirmed meekly. "But-"

"No 'buts'," Mac interrupted. "We'll deal with those as they come up, together, just like we planned.

Jo graced him with a watery smile and before he knew what had happened they were standing beside her desk, locked in each other's embrace.

"Cynthia says you came up with a great project for the kids. Come on over to my place for dinner and tell me all about it." To Mac's relief, she readily agreed and he squeezed her tighter.

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For the second time in two days, Joanna pulled her car into MacGyver's driveway and took a moment to gather herself. Mac had seemed to think everything between them would magically go back to the way it had been, but life didn't work like that, at least not in her experience. They needed to deal with their past before they could share their future. She walked into his apartment to find the kitchen table full of Chinese take-out containers.

"Supper?" she asked, quirking a brow.

"What did you expect on such short notice," Mac teased.

"So, what's your plan to get Challengers back into Phoenix's good graces?" MacGyver asked once they had loaded their plates with food.

"I think Cynthia may have oversold it," she chuckled, feeling happier than she had since before Mac's fateful birthday dinner.

"Let me be the judge of that," MacGyver replied before taking a healthy bite of his eggroll.

"Two of the biggest problems in the community we serve are kids using drugs or joining gangs or both," Joanna began. "I thought it would be a good idea to have the club members make posters discouraging these behaviors and then go and display them in local schools along with a list of places where students can go to get help and support. Places like Challengers."

"That sounds great! How far along are you?"

Buoyed by Mac's response, Jo continued, "The kids will be finishing up their posters this week. I figure next Monday we can start taking them over to the schools and it'll encourage more teens to join Challengers when summer vacation starts."

"You are awesome! You know that?" MacGyver kissed the top of her head as he stood to collect the dirty dishes and empty food cartons. Joanna blushed at his praise as well as his kiss. She had missed his touch more than she cared to admit.

Together they went into the living room and sat on the couch, Mac draping an arm across her shoulders.

"So what happened when you got to L.A.?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite her curiosity. "Was Jack okay?"

MacGyver took a fortifying breath before launching into his recount of the past few weeks, starting with finding Jack broke and homeless to his time in Mission City.

"I heard about the oil spill on the news," she told him. "I figured you'd go."

"You know me so well," Mac smiled, dropping a chaste kiss on her forehead. "What about you? Anything exciting happen a work?"

"Not really," she shrugged, hoping MacGyver wouldn't question her further, but she should have known better.

"C'mon, tell me even if it's boring," he urged.

"The weekend after you left, Mrs. Varga sent me and another teacher to Madison for a two-day seminar. Then the following week Becca came up from Chicago and I helped her with research for an assignment. The rest of my time was spent at Challengers."

Mac removed his arm from her shoulders and turned to face her. "That's it?"

"Yeah," she replied.

MacGyver studied her for several long minutes until she began to squirm under his scrutiny. "What?" she asked, feigning annoyance to hide her dread.

"I know you, too, Jo. You just summed up three weeks in three sentences. What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing important."

"What kind of research did you help Rebecca with?"

"Nothing dangerous if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm glad to hear that. Then what was it?"

Joanna glared at him. The insufferable man was like a dog with a bone when he was on a mission. She might as well tell him everything if she had any hope of getting home tonight, well aware that what she had to say could rip them apart forever.

"Her editor wanted her to do a story about computer dating so she signed us both up so she could write about our experiences."

"You're kidding!" Mac burst out laughing. "What happened?"

"For your information we both met someone and went out on a date."

"Wait a minute. You went on a date?" MacGyver quickly sobered and Jo rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, my match was a complete bore. All I could think of was how much I would rather be with you."

"Really?" Mac asked with a self-satisfied smirk. "So you missed me then."

"Maybe," Jo grudgingly admitted, trying to save face and get his ego back in check.

"What about the teaching seminar?"

"It was...interesting," she hedged.

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Right," Joanna agreed. She wanted to leave it at that, but the two-by-four whacking at her conscience wouldn't allow it. "Mac, there's something I need to tell you." Her stomach rebelled as she watched the color drain from his face. "The colleague I went with...his name is Tim O'Brien."

Jo told MacGyver about the weekend...and Tim, her heart sinking with every word. When she was done she held her breath and waited for his reaction.

"So let me get this straight," Mac said, pushing himself off the couch and pointing a finger at her. "You let this guy take you to a romantic dinner and kiss you in your hotel room, all the while leading him to believe you were available?! How could you?!" He jammed his fingers through his hair and turned his back to her.

"I didn't mean to let it happen, at least not at first," Jo explained, standing up as well. "But you gotta understand, I had already convinced myself that I would never fit in your life. That you would be better off without me. Tim and I seemed to have so much in common and he felt...safe. But I was wrong. He was nothing like I thought he was. He was nothing like you!"

MacGyver walked to the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck, and poured himself a glass of juice that he didn't even want, but he needed time to think.

"Mac…?" Her voice was soft and meek and vulnerable.

"What's it gonna take for you to believe, without a doubt, that you are exactly the kind of girl I can't live without? You say you love me and that you'll marry me, but there's still a part of you holding back. I don't know what to do, Jo. I don't know what you _want_ me to do. I've opened up to you, given you all I got. What's it gonna take for you to do the same?"

If MacGyver was looking to tear her soul to shreds he was doing a great job of it. She stood frozen, unable to talk, cry, or even breathe. He was right. He was absolutely right. She _was_ holding back, but even she didn't know how to fix it. All her life she had always held a little piece of herself back to protect her from people who got too close. He needed all of her. He deserved all of her. What would it take for her to completely let go and love Mac the way she wanted to? She dared to look him in the eye, afraid of the anger and disappointment she'd find there, but she only saw pain...and love.

"I don't know," she finally whispered.

Mac strode to where she stood and gathered her close. "Don't worry, we'll get through this just like we've gotten through everything else," he assured her.

"I love you, Mac. I really do," she murmured against his chest.

"I know, baby. I know."


	47. Puppy Love

**Puppy Love**

The following morning MacGyver wandered through the empty rooms at Challengers alternately jamming his splayed fingers through his hair and scrubbing the back of his neck as he recalled, in vivid detail, his recent conversations with Joanna. He had sent Cynthia home, giving her the rest of the week off to make up for all the extra hours she had put in covering for both him and Jo, but now he wished she were here as he really didn't care to be alone with his thoughts right now. He had assumed surprising Joanna at church would have been a good thing given her strong faith. Apparently not. She had been as ornery as a snapping turtle and he had no idea why...until he spoke to her the next day. His all-American male ego urged him to be angry and jealous because Joanna had gone out with other men while he was away, but the bigger part of him, the part that loved her in a way he had never loved any woman before, refused to blame her for her actions. She had been confused and scared and honestly believed he would sooner or later decide to leave. While it stung that she had such little faith in him, who was he to throw stones? She was only trying to protect her heart, and if her tears last night were any indication, she had failed miserably. What's more, she wasn't the only one at fault. After all, he _had_ bailed on her instead of standing his ground and insisting they work things out. Had he done that, the story would read a whole lot differently. But he felt as if he'd been placed between a rock and a hard place. No matter which decision he made, it would have been the wrong one in her eyes at the time. But that was all water under the bridge. He was home to stay and Joanna still loved him. Everything else would eventually work itself out...he hoped.

Mac stopped at the long table where half-finished posters encouraging kids to stay away from drugs and gangs lay. While some were simple and to the point, others were creative and more artistic. His heart swelled with pride, not only because the Challengers members were doing something productive for the community, but because Joanna had thought of and initiated this project all on her own. This club was as much hers as it was his and he suddenly understood why she had petitioned for him to give up his rights to the place when she believed he wasn't going to return. She was making sure that Challengers would continue to exist and be a vital part of the city with or without him. How could he fault her for that?

MacGyver was about to head to his office when he heard the front door creak open. He made a mental note to oil it later. He turned around to find a lanky teenage girl looking warily about the place. Her hair was cut short and straight and she wore a tattered flannel shirt underneath an equally tattered denim jacket. Her blue jeans were threadbare and dirty.

"Hey there," Mac greeted her in a gentle voice.

"Hey," the teen responded, so softly he almost didn't hear her. "What sorta place is this?" she asked, eyes darting around the room but never making contact with his.

"It's a boys and girls club, but everyone is welcome," MacGyver replied as he tried to assess her situation.

"Oh, I thought it was a shelter or something."

"It's that, too. Basically it's anything you need it to be." When the girl didn't reply, Mac pressed on. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

The disheveled teen shook her head.

"Do you know someone who is?"

"Maybe," she mumbled, looking up and finally meeting his gaze.

"What's your name?"

"Jaime."

"Nice to meet you, Jaime. I'm MacGyver but everyone calls me 'Mac'. The place is empty now, but feel free to hang out if you want," he offered.

"Naw, thanks," Jaime said with a shake of her head. "I gotta get goin'."

"All right, feel free to come by any time."

The girl nodded in agreement and MacGyver thought he saw a slight smile tug at her lips before she walked out.

XXXXX

Later that afternoon Mac watched from his office doorway as club members trickled in. It wasn't long until Joanna arrived and encouraged her recruits to finish their posters. On her way to her office, MacGyver gently snagged her arm.

"Got a sec?" he asked.

"Sure. What's up?"

MacGyver pulled her into his office. "I signed the papers for the townhouse a couple hours ago. How about we go out to dinner later to celebrate?" He stepped close and bent to give her a quick yet tender kiss. When he pulled away, he was gutted by the haunted look in her eyes.

"Mac, after everything that's happened between us these past weeks we can't just hit the rewind button and pick up where we left off. I told you last night, I still have some things to figure out."

MacGyver stepped back and jammed both his hands through his hair. "I'm trying to be understanding, Joanna. I really am. But I feel like we keep having the same conversation over and over. We promise each other we'll trust, we'll commit. Then one of us messes it up! Maybe you're right after all. Maybe we aren't meant to be together." The grief on her face ripped at his heart, but frustration kept him from reaching out to her.

"Do you really mean that?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Mac scrubbed the back of his neck. "No, I-". His response was interrupted by a ruckus in the recreation room.

"Mom! Everyone! Come look what I found!" Raul called from the main entrance.

"Mijo! Calm down!" Rosie, who was working at the reception desk, admonished her son.

"Hurry!" Raul urged.

MacGyver and Joanna hurried to where the boy stood, Rosie and a handful of teens behind them. There, on the top step, was a large cardboard box with high sides and no lid. Mac threw a quick glance over his shoulder, but Jo just shrugged. Weak mewling sounds came from the mysterious box and when he looked in he found five balls of fur, whimpering and crawling over each other as they jockeyed for space. Puppies.

"Can we keep 'em?" Raul asked.

"Yeah, can we?" his peers echoed.

"First let's get them inside and take a closer look," MacGyver suggested, dodging the teens' questions for the time being.

He picked up the box and carried it inside. Club members scurried ahead of him to remove their posters from the table and make room for the new additions. It was then that Mac saw a piece of white paper folded up and stuck in a corner of the box. He reached in carefully and snagged it. Surrounded by curious eyes, he unfolded the note and read the short message: _Please keep them safe_.

"That means they're ours!" Raul crowed as the others cheered. The sudden noise sent the puppies tumbling to the safety of a corner in one large ball of fluff.

"Raul, you're scaring them!" Rosie once again scolded. "All of you, go back to what you were doing. You can see the puppies later."

MacGyver sent her an appreciative smile as the club members moaned their displeasure but obediently headed back to the activities they had previously been engaged in. Mac felt Joanna press against him, her breath tickling his neck. "Oh, they're precious," she crooned, leaning in to get a better look. "I wonder what breed they are?" she asked, more rhetorically than to him, but nevertheless he reached in and carefully cradled one of the pups in his large hand. Distinctive black, copper, and white markings on its face, legs and chest as well as chocolate brown eyes gave him the answer.

"They're Australian Shepherds, or Aussies, and they look pure-bred," he told her as she gently smoothed the puppy's coat with her index finger.

"How can you tell?" she asked in a soft voice so as not to frighten the little animals.

Still holding the pup, MacGyver quirked his lips. "I grew up in rural Minnesota, remember? They were often used as herding dogs, but they make great pets, too."

"How old do you think they are?"

Mac regarded the warm, quivering body in his grasp. "Probably not more than six weeks, I'd guess."

"Isn't that awful young for them to be away from their mother?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Where on earth did they come from?" Jo asked, watching Mac tenderly place the puppy back into the box with its littermates. He had been wondering the same thing himself until his hand brushed a soft piece of fabric. He gently disentangled the Aussies and pulled out a tattered flannel shirt that he immediately recognized from this morning.

"Jaime," he whispered.

"Who?" Joanna asked.

MacGyver told her about the teen he had met earlier and suddenly her question made sense. "She asked if this was a shelter. I told her it was."

"But where would a girl like that get dogs like these?"

"No idea," Mac frowned, but his brain was already in high gear eager to solve the puzzle that had literally landed on his doorstep.

"Can we see the puppies yet?" Raul asked, approaching the table.

MacGyver sighed and smiled. No sense delaying the inevitable. He just hoped the kids wouldn't bond with their temporary visitors, but that was like asking the grass not to turn green. "Sure," he replied. "But you come up one at a time for a quick peek. No talking and no touching. They're just babies and they're scared right now."

Surprisingly, Raul stepped aside and let the younger kids look first. When it was finally his turn, the boy pointed to a pup that had settled itself apart from its littermates.

"Why is that one so little?" he asked. "Is he sick?"

MacGyver regarded the dog in question. "Looks like he's the runt of the litter." When Raul continued to look at him, he continued, "It's not unusual for there to be one puppy that's smaller than his brothers and sisters. If he gets proper care he'll grow up to be big and strong, just like the rest."

Seemingly satisfied with this answer, Raul walked away. Once everyone had had a chance to peek into the box, Mac reached to pick it up and take it to his office, but Joanna's index finger stabbing him in the bicep stopped him.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"I think we forgot about someone."

He followed her gaze to the floor and found Frog looking up at them, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, eyes curious.

"Hey buddy," Mac greeted the canine as he crouched down, box in hand. "We've got some friends for you." MacGyver set the box on the floor and Frog simply stared at it. He then scooped up one of the pups and held it for Frog to see. The bull dog took a couple lumbering steps towards him before sniffing the strange animal and giving it a gentle lick. Apparently accepting the intruders, he headed back to his bed in the corner and quickly fell asleep.

"That went well," Jo remarked, her voice tinged with surprise.

"Yeah," Mac agreed in the same tone. "We'll see how he does when they start getting more attention than him."

Straightening to his full height, MacGyver once again picked up the box and headed to his office, Joanna following of her own accord. Knowing she loved animals just as much as he did, her actions did not surprise him. In fact, when he had been in Alaska cleaning wildlife that had been caught in the oil spill, he had often imagined her working beside him in easy comradery. Instead, he had stood next to Jack.

"What do we do now?" Jo asked, interrupting his wayward thoughts.

"Call the police," he said, trying to ignore the frown she wore as she watched the puppies sleep. "You know it's the right thing to do, Jo." She nodded her acquiescence as he picked up the phone and dialed the non-emergency number. When his call was answered, he put it on speaker so they both could hear. After stating the situation and being put on hold a couple times, a friendly sounding female voice finally came on the line and she introduced herself as Officer Carter.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. MacGyver, but we've been inundated with similar calls the past couple of days."

Upon hearing this, Mac and Jo exchanged curious glances.

"Really?" Mac responded.

"Unfortunately yes. People are finding boxes of puppies at hospitals, libraries, even individual homes." Carter replied.

"Any idea what's goin' on?" MacGyver asked.

Officer Carter sighed. "Near as we can tell, some grass roots animal rights activists are hiring kids off the street to steal them from a puppy mill."

"Puppy mill? Here in Milwaukee?" Jo asked incredulously.

"I'm afraid so, ma'am."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Mac asked.

"Well, the local animal shelters are already filled to capacity and veterinarian clinics are overrun. I've heard a lot of good things about Challengers Club and wondered if you'd be willing to take care of the puppies. At least until the Humane Society is able to take in more. I can give you a number to contact to get instructions on how to-"

"That's not necessary," MacGyver interjected. "I know what to do."

"Good," Carter responded. "We're getting a task force together to deal with this issue. I'll check in with you as soon as I can."

Mac hung up the phone and looked at his watch. "I'm gonna hit the pet store for some supplies before they close. Would you mind watching these little guys while I'm gone?"

"Of course not," Jo replied, holding a squirming little fur ball up to her cheek. "But why do you keep assuming they're all male?"

"I don't know," Mac shrugged. "Why don't you check 'em out while I'm gone and see if there are any girls in the group." He turned and headed out of his office, laughing as Joanna pulled a face behind his back.

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Joanna watched as MacGyver spread out an old blanket on the floor in front of his desk. He then placed five small bowls on it and gently set a puppy beside each one. He explained that he was serving kibble soaked in canine milk replacer. When he took the last pup from the box, he sat on the edge of the blanket, looking up at her expectantly. Able to read the question in his eyes, Jo lowered herself so she was kneeling on the opposite edge of the blanket, ready to wrangle any runaway Aussies.

"So, what did you discover while I was gone?" he smirked.

"There's only one female in the litter," she sighed sadly.

"What's wrong with that?"

"She's the runt," Joanna replied with a frown. "While you were gone I was watching them and none of her brothers wanted to play with her." Unbidden tears burned at the back of her eyes."

"Hey, you heard what I told Raul. There's every chance she'll grow up to be just like her brothers."

"I know," Jo murmured.

"You know what I think?" Mac asked.

Joanna shook her head but didn't say anything.

"I think she'll grow up to be the prettiest Aussie anyone's ever seen and these guys here will be beating all the other male dogs off with a stick!"

Jo couldn't help but chuckle at the image that formed in her mind. At the same time, her heart warmed because she knew Mac understood she wasn't just talking about the puppy, but herself as well. Did he really think she was the prettiest girl around? Or should she be offended that she had just been compared to a dog? She decided to go with the former. They sat in companionable silence, watching as the pups worked the tiny pieces of food around in their small mouths before she noticed something.

"Mac, she's not eating," Joanna observed, eyes fixed on the runt that sat beside her.

"That happens sometimes," he assured her. "Try helping her out." He demonstrated by picking up a bit of kibble and offering it to the dog closest to him.

Joanna mimicked his actions, but the undergrown female wouldn't even open her mouth. "It's not working."

"Try holding her," Mac suggested.

Jo scooped up the pup and cuddled her gently before presenting her with another piece of food, but the result was the same. She was getting genuinely worried now.

"I got an idea," MacGyver said, sensing her concern as he rose from the floor. "I picked this up just in case we had problems." He produced what looked like a small baby bottle from the bag he got at the pet store. He went into the staff kitchen and when he returned it was full of warm milk replacer. He handed it to Joanna.

"I've never done this before," she told him, hoping he wouldn't notice her trembling hand.

"First of all, you need to relax," Mac told her, crouching down and placing a hand on her shoulder causing a stream of awareness to course through her body. "Now, just hold the bottle up to her mouth."

Joanna gingerly followed MacGyver's instructions and soon the pup was suckling eagerly from the rubber tip.

"It's working!" Jo exclaimed in a whisper, beaming up at Mac.

"See. I told ya," he smiled back.

When the puppies' appetites had been sated, MacGyver carefully returned them to the large box with the old shirt and a hot water bottle he had found to help keep them warm. Joanna wished they had better accommodations, but she understood that they needed the familiarity and comfort of their current surroundings. With their new charges settled in for the night, or at least the next couple of hours, Jo and Mac took a seat on an old couch he had commandeered for his office.

"So what's your plan?" Joanna asked, stifling a yawn.

"What plan?" MacGyver looked as bewildered as he sounded.

"The plan to track down Jaime and have her lead you to the puppy mill so it can be shut down."

"You heard Officer Carter, they're getting a task force together and don't need us in the way."

Jo stared at Mac incredulously. "So that's it?! You're not gonna do anything?!"

"I'm already doing something. I'm gonna stay here and take care of the puppies."

"Then I'll help you," Joanna declared.

"No you won't," MacGyver countered. "They'll need at least one more feeding during the night and you have work in the morning."

"So do you," Jo argued.

"Yeah. Here. Where I can nap while the pups are sleeping. You can't exactly doze off while you're teaching."

"I hate it when you're right," Joanna frowned.

"I know," Mac chuckled.

When Jo got home that evening she quickly told her parents about the puppies and promised her dad she wouldn't bring one home...at least not to stay...and then hurried to her bedroom where she set her alarm clock for an hour earlier than usual. She was already anxious to return to Challengers and spend more time with the Aussies...and Mac.

Joanna arrived at Challengers the next morning to find the parking lot empty except for MacGyver's Jeep. She found him in his office, slouched against the base of his desk, legs straight out. His head was tilted at an odd angle, causing his bangs to fall freely across his forehead. His eyes were closed and he snored softy. Jo's heart sped up and she couldn't tear her gaze from him. He looked so carefree and vulnerable. As she studied his softened features she noticed he cradled a squirming puppy against his chest, a bottle of milk lay next to him on the floor. She took a deep, fortifying breath before she turned into a puddle of mush at the sight. Mac's love and tenderness knew no bounds and she was on the verge of throwing it all away. The little dog's whine refocused Joanna's attention and she carefully took the creature from Mac's hand, picking up the bottle and offering it to who she immediately recognized as the runt. She was returning the pup to the rest of the litter when she heard MacGyver groan in his sleep. Kneeling beside him, she lightly brushed the hair off his face. Why could she not open her heart completely to this man?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

MacGyver felt something gently brush across his forehead. His eyes drifted open and he groaned when he tried to straighten his neck. When he turned his head, his eyes slammed into Joanna's and took his breath away.

"Are you stiff from sleeping like that?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he replied absently, reaching up to massage his tight muscles with one hand as he looked around for the puppy he had been holding before he dozed off.

"I fed her the bottle and put her back with her brothers," Jo informed him.

"How do you always seem to know what I'm thinking?" he asked, still a bit dazed from his nap.

"It's a blessing," she shrugged, "or a curse. I haven't decided which."

Her playful smile did something odd to his stomach...in a good sort of way. She had been so sad and serious lately, that it was good to see her sense of humor return. He reached up with his other hand to try and ease the pain in his neck.

"Here, let me," she offered. "Just turn a little bit."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he obeyed. At first, her touch was soft and hesitant and he was saddened to realize that this relatively intimate gesture they used to indulge in had now become uncomfortable for her yet again. Before his worries could take root, her ministrations became stronger, more sure, and while she focused on relaxing his neck muscles, she allowed her hands to explore his shoulders and upper back as well. He tried to remain still and quiet, but then her fingers hit a spot just right and he couldn't help but let out a moan of pleasure. She giggled and he smiled to himself. She began to play with the hair at his nape and a shiver darted down his spine. If only this moment would last forever, but he knew that all too soon reality would smack him in the face. It always did.

"I hope you don't mind that I came by so early," she said huskily, the impromptu massage apparently affecting her as much as it did him.

"I can't think of a better way to start the day," he assured her, turning so they were facing each other, their lips tantalizingly close. While she didn't lean in, she didn't pull away, and for the first time since returning home Mac felt as if they were back on solid footing. No longer able to resist, he tenderly cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted his head, moving ever so slightly. Suddenly, a snuffle, a snort, and a woof coming from the doorway caused them to jump apart as if hit by a bolt of lightning.

"You got really lousy timing, Frog," MacGyver muttered under his breath as the dog remained in the doorway, staring guilelessly at them.

"He probably has to go out," Joanna surmised.

"I'll get his leash," Mac grumbled as he rose from the floor. "Would you mind keeping an eye on the pups 'til we get back?"

Joanna glanced at her watch and smiled. "No, take your time."

Biting back some choice words for his canine companion, MacGyver led the dog out the door and across the parking lot when Frog put on the brakes almost causing Mac to go flying over him.

"You're really trying to ruin my day, aren't you?" he asked testily, trying to meet the dog's gaze, but his eyes were focused back towards the building they had just left. Mac turned to see what had gotten Frog's attention just as a shadow of a figure disappeared around the corner. MacGyver dropped the leash and took off in pursuit confident that the bow-legged bull dog would follow. As he raced around to the back of the building, he found a lanky teen with short brown hair attempting to scale the chain link fence on the boundary of the property.

"Jamie!" he called, knowing without a doubt it was the young lady he had met yesterday. She ignored him but two large steps brought him to her. He grabbed onto her leg, even as she tried to kick him away, and managed to get her safely to the ground.

"Whoa!" he said, holding her tight as she struggled against him. "What are ya doin' here?"

"I just came to check on the dogs," she mumbled.

"Then why did you run?"

"I don't know! I just did!" she spat.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with those dogs you've been paid to steal now, would it?"

Jaime suddenly stopped fighting and turned to face him. "You're crazy! I ain't gettin' paid to steal those dogs! I'm gettin' paid to keep 'em alive and I'm tryin' to get them outta that place before they're sold to the highest bidder!"

"You sayin' you _work_ at a puppy mill?" Mac asked more calmly.

"Wow, you're just a real Einstein, aren't you?"

"And you're a smart aleck," MacGyver shot back. "Come with me. We need to talk."

Mac placed a guiding hand on Jaime's shoulder and herded her back inside Challengers with little protest. They found Joanna in the small staff kitchen preparing the milk-soaked kibble that would be the puppies' breakfast. Once introductions were made and the pups fed, Jo excused herself and left for work, leaving MacGyver alone with Jaime who was sitting cross legged on the floor playing with one of the dogs. Mac lowered himself and sat next to her.

"Mind telling me how you got yourself mixed up in this?" he asked, keeping his voice as non-threatening as possible.

The girl shrugged. "One day a guy came up to me on the street and asked if I'd like to earn some extra money. Cash. No strings attached. I mean, who wouldn't? So he took me to this warehouse and told me all I needed to do was make sure the dogs had food and water. There were other kids my age there, too." Here she paused, head down. "It was horrible, MacGyver! They had all these little puppies crammed into wire cages that never got cleaned or anything and we were only allowed to feed them once a day but a lot of them hardly ever ate. I think they were sick. The older dogs were thin and tired. The guy would come and take them away but never brought them back."

"How come the Aussies you left here are so healthy?" Mac asked.

"I made some friends there. We decided to start sneaking the new puppies extra food and made sure they had clean water to drink. We knew we needed to get them outta there so a couple weeks ago we started taking a few here and there and leaving them someplace where we could trust the people to take care of them."

Mac sighed. "You know you should have gone to the police or at least the Humane Society and reported this instead of taking matters into your own hands."

"I know," Jaime answered softly. "But we were afraid we'd get in trouble too."

"Listen, I called the police yesterday and they're setting up a task force to take down the puppy mill. Since you've actually been there, I'm sure they'd appreciate any information you could give them."

After several moments Jaime nodded and MacGyver placed a call to Officer Carter. Their conversation was short and to the point.

"Jaime, can you come back about six o'clock tonight? The cop leading the investigation would really like to talk to you and she promised me you won't get in any trouble if you cooperate. Do we have a deal?"

The teen glanced at the clock on the wall. "Yeah, sure, whatever. I gotta go," she said nervously and got up and quickly left the building.

XXXXX

At five thirty that afternoon, MacGyver, Joanna, and Officer Carter closeted themselves in Mac's office where he explained everything that Jaime had said earlier in the day. In return, the police officer shared the information the task force had uncovered. It seemed that an abandoned warehouse had been sold to a businessman looking to relocate a few months ago. The same man had also leased office space in a large building downtown. On the surface, everything appeared legit. However, when the task force began investigating newly acquired real estate in the area it turned out this particular buyer had used a fake identity.

"We could bring him in for fraud," Carter explained, "but it'd be better if we could prove he's running this puppy mill so we're setting up stakeouts at both locations to get enough cause for a search warrant."

"Won't that take awhile?" Jo asked with a frown.

"Maybe," the cop replied, "but I'm hoping Jaime can give us some inside info to speed up the process. However, the last thing we need is to bust this guy and then not have it stick."

At six o'clock the trio moved into the recreation area and waited by the reception desk for Jaime to arrive. As the minutes ticked by, Mac's discomfiture grew. When half an hour had passed and the girl had not arrived, MacGyver caught the skepticism in Carter's eyes, but it was Joanna's expression of concern and compassion that captured his attention. More than likely she knew what he was thinking, and she was thinking the same...that something bad had happened to Jaime. If Jo could read him so well, how could she not know how much he loved her and wanted her in his life forever? Perhaps she did know and that was the problem...she was scared. Carter's voice broke into his musings.

"Looks like your little friend decided not to show," she remarked sarcastically.

"She'd be here if she could. Something must have happened," Mac replied.

"Yeah, she got a bad case of 'cop-itis'. Happens all the time with kids like these," Carter scoffed.

"Jaime loves those animals as much as any of us here!" he rounded on the officer. "She's already proved that. She's in trouble and needs our help!"

"And how can you be so sure of that Mr. MacGyver?"

"I feel it in my gut. We need to find her."

"Unfortunately, a gut feeling isn't enough cause to put out an APB on a runaway teen," Carter all but snarled.

"Look, you can either help me find her or you can get out of my way. Now, what's the address of that warehouse?"

MacGyver could see Carter's mental struggle. Finally, she rattled off the address with the promise to send in backup while she and another unit checked out the downtown office.

"Thanks," Mac called as he charged out the door and headed to his Jeep.

XXXXX

The evening twilight cast an eerie glow over the now-defunct industrial area where the alleged puppy mill warehouse was located. MacGyver doused his headlights and let up on the gas as he approached the only building with artificial light pouring from its windows which were surprisingly all intact. He slipped out of the Jeep and hurried to the back entrance, careful to stay in the lengthening shadows. There were no other vehicles in the area, including police back-up, but that didn't mean he was alone. The hairs standing up on the back of his neck told him as much. The windows were set too high for him to peek through so he'd have to go in blind. He tested the rusty knob on the solid steel door and it turned with surprising ease. The old hinges complained as he pushed the door open just enough for him to squeeze through. He ducked behind a pile of cardboard boxes and waited to see if anyone had heard him enter.

After ten minutes, Mac was fairly certain no one was in the building so he took the opportunity to survey his surroundings and what he saw made him sick to his stomach both figuratively and literally. The large facility was filled with wire kennels and cages stacked one upon the other in long rows with only narrow aisles separating them. He quietly walked up and down these aisles, fighting his gag reflex as the cloying smell of days old feces, urine, and vomit hung in the air like toxic fog. The smaller cages held puppies weaned too early and suffering from malnutrition and other conditions he rather not identify. Most slept, their little rib bones already showing. Some looked at him with hopeful eyes, others with emptiness or fear. He bent down to look in the larger kennels. Adult dogs laid listlessly in their own filth. As with the pups, many were just skin and bones. Others were plump and most likely only days from giving birth. Perhaps his most unsettling observation was the preternatural quiet. Here and there a dog whimpered or wheezed but if he hadn't seen them with his own eyes, he would never know that he was standing among what had to be hundreds of canines. His tour ended in a dark corner where heat emanated from an ancient but still operable incinerator. Mac swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He knew enough about puppy mills to know that this was where the female dogs were disposed of when they became too sick or too old to breed.

MacGyver took a deep breath and refocused on why he was here in the first place and that was to find Jaime. A sudden bang came from behind a door next to the incinerator. Then another, and another along with what sounded like muffled cries for help.

"Jaime?!" Mac called, "Jaime! Is that you?!"

More banging.

MacGyver tried the doorknob, but of course this one was locked.

"Hold on, I'll get you out!" he hollered through the door as he reached into his pocket for his Swiss Army knife. As he did so, he felt the tingle of a presence behind him. He turned only to have something heavy and blunt connect with his temple. He felt himself slump to the cold, concrete floor before unconsciousness claimed him.

Yips, yaps, barks, and a persistent pounding sounded at a distance as Mac struggled to push through the darkness that had claimed him. Dogs. Jaime. He needed to rescue them. He slowly peeled one eye open and immediately slammed it shut against the bright light. He moved his hand to rest on his forehead. He was hot...so hot. Clenching his teeth he forced his eyes open and found the source of the heat. Wooden pallets stacked along the walls of the warehouse were on fire, tongues of flame flared into the air. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his head. Fumbling with his pocket knife, he clumsily picked the lock on the door and opened it to find Jaime and a boy about the same age with gags in their mouths and rope binding their wrists and ankles. He quickly freed Jaime's hands and gave her the knife to work on the rest of their bindings as he watched the fire grow and move closer. A quick glance around the small space told him they were in some kind of storage closet. Unfortunately, it was the kind that did _not_ contain a fire extinguisher. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied two large tarps rolled up against a shelving unit. He grabbed one, quickly unfurled it, and tossed the other to the still nameless teenage boy who was now on his feet. Together, they started batting down the flames as Jaime followed close behind.

"We have to save the dogs!" she yelled over the crackling flames.

MacGyver nodded, but his first priority was to get the humans to safety. Thankfully the fire concentrated itself around the large perimeter allowing them to safely reach the door that Mac had used to enter the building not that long ago.

"The dogs!" Jaime cried as she lunged back toward the engulfed warehouse. MacGyver grabbed her around the waist, holding her back.

"You stay out here," he instructed. "Your friend and I will hand you the cages." It would be quicker and easier to simply open the kennels and allow the dogs to make a run for it, but most weren't strong enough and there was no guarantee they would head for the door. Mac heard sirens wail in the distance as he and the other teen began grabbing cages and passing them to Jaime. Bystanders appeared out of nowhere and soon formed a human chain, passing the kennels along to safety. MacGyver saw Joanna jump from a squad car and join in as fire trucks rolled up and began pumping water on the inferno while other firefighters and policemen joined in the frantic effort to rescue as many animals as possible. Mac's arm muscles screamed from the repeated lifting of heavy loads and his legs felt like jelly, but he didn't slow down even as a familiar haze threatened to envelope him. He coughed, choking on the acrid smoke, but still he kept grabbing kennels full of frightened puppies until a pair of strong hands grasped his shoulders and steered him out through the door. To MacGyver's chagrin, his legs soon gave out and he slumped against the sturdy form that propelled him to an area filled with flashing red, white and blue lights.

Still in a daze, Mac allowed the paramedics to perform a cursory exam before he was coaxed onto a gurney, a plastic oxygen mask placed over his nose and mouth, and was loaded into an ambulance that immediately headed to the nearest hospital.

Upon arriving at the emergency room, MacGyver's head wound was cleaned and stitched up before he was taken to radiology for a CT scan. By the time he was returned to his designated bed, he was fully conscious, alert, and seeking answers from those around him. Unfortunately, those around him, namely police officers including Officer Carter, had just as many questions for him with a few reprimands thrown in for good measure. It was only the sight of Joanna standing at the foot of his bed that assuaged his frustration.

"Were they able to save all the animals?" he asked, his gaze locking with hers.

"There were too many," she told him softly. "They were weak and the smoke was thick."

Mac squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his head back, deep into his pillow.

"We got the majority of them out," Officer Carter informed him. "They're at various veterinarian clinics as we speak. It could have been a lot worse."

"Did you get the jerk behind all this?" he croaked, his throat still sore from the smoke he had inhaled.

"Yeah," Carter confirmed. "We caught him several blocks away. Not only is he facing the slew of charges that go along with illegally operating a puppy mill, but we're also charging him with arson, assault, and three counts of attempted homicide."

"Good," Mac murmured, even though he couldn't think of a harsh enough punishment for such an unspeakable crime. Just then a grey-haired middle-aged man in a white coat entered and introduced himself as MacGyver's doctor. Thankfully, he ordered everyone out of the room, with the exception of Joanna, so he could speak with his patient.

"What's the verdict, doc? When can I get outta here?"

The man sighed, adjusted his reading glasses, and looked at his chart. "You're in good shape considering the danger you put yourself in. Obviously you have a laceration to your temple and some minor smoke inhalation which may cause you some discomfort for the next few days, but my main concern is the hit you took to your head. The scan shows a mild concussion and your medical records indicate this is not the first."

MacGyver almost laughed out loud. That was the understatement of the decade! He also knew the spiel that was about to come.

The doctor took off his glasses and looked at his patient. "Is there someone at home who can keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours?"

Mac bit back a mischievous smile as he turned his attention to Joanna and waited for her to do the fiancé/wife routine they had perfected so well, even in the early days of their budding friendship, but she averted her eyes and spoke to the doctor.

"No. He lives alone," she stated.

MacGyver felt the blood drain from his face as shards of emotional pain sliced through his body. Over the past few days he had allowed himself to believe that Jo was breaking down whatever barriers she had put up as together they tended the abandoned puppies. From the neck massage to the almost-kiss he was positive that their relationship was once again moving forward. Now, with a simple statement, it had all but collapsed, at least as far as he was concerned. She had barely known him when he sustained his first concussion in Milwaukee, yet she insisted on playing nursemaid and stayed overnight at his apartment, waking him hourly to make sure he was okay. Fast-forward to today, when they were supposed to be an engaged couple, and she totally bailed on him.

"Well, in that case," Mac heard the doctor say, "I'm afraid I need to admit you for observation for at least the next day. I'll have someone come in and take care of the paperwork."

MacGyver nodded mechanically and watched as the doctor turned and left the curtained-off bay, Joanna right behind him, her head down.


	48. Meeting MacGyver

**Meeting MacGyver**

Joanna felt like pond scum as she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She thought about MacGyver, lying in the hospital hurt and alone, and her stomach churned. Since finding the abandoned pups, she had felt the barriers around her heart begin to crumble and found herself falling in love with Mac all over again. Not that she had ever truly stopped loving him in the first place. Yet, when the doctor at the hospital had asked if he had someone to take care of him and Mac shot her an expectant, even playful look, a part of her panicked leaving him to be tended to by strangers in a place he hated. He most likely now hated her as well. He would never know that she had refused to leave until it was confirmed he was settled comfortably in his room and the nurses assured her he would be well taken care of. He would never know that she stood in the doorway of his room, needing to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest to assure herself that he had once again escaped a deadly encounter. All he would know was that she had left him when he had needed her.

The following afternoon, Jo hurried over to Challengers as soon as school was dismissed for the day. She had called Cynthia last night and explained what had happened and asked if she could step in for MacGyver while Joanna was at work even though Mac had originally given Cynthia the week off. Because of that, Jo wanted to relieve her as quickly as possible. Breezing past Rosie seated at the reception desk, she stopped short when she saw MacGyver sitting behind the desk in his office where she had expected to find Cynthia instead. Their eyes met uncomfortably as she stared at his pale face accentuated by the white gauze pad taped to his temple.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"Working."

"But I thought the doctor wanted to keep you for at least twenty-four hours?"

"I was feeling better so I signed myself out. Sorry to disappoint you." His tone was flat, but his words found their mark. Refusing to rise to the well-deserved bait, Joanna decided to change the subject.

"Where are the puppies?" she asked, noticing the large box was conspicuously missing.

MacGyver must have sensed her concern because his features softened slightly. "Animal control came and got 'em. They're 'evidence'." Jo frowned. "Don't worry, they'll be well taken care of and then put up for adoption," he added for what she hoped was her benefit.

"Excuse me," Rosie quietly interrupted from the doorway. "There are some people here to see Joanna."

"Oh! The school volunteers! I completely forgot!" Jo exclaimed as she turned on her heel and headed to the small group of teens gathered by the reception desk. "The posters are over on that table," she told them pointing them in the proper direction.

"What's going on?" Mac asked from behind her.

"These are students from nearby schools. They're picking up the anti-drug and anti-gang posters to take and display in their classrooms."

Within minutes the task was complete and Joanna turned to head to her office when a bout of dizziness overtook her, causing her to stumble into MacGyver. Immediately two strong arms steadied her.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. "I just must've moved too fast." With every ounce of determination she possessed she pulled out of his grasp. To her dismay, he dogged her every step.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," Jo repeated. "I'm just kinda tired."

She slumped into the chair behind her desk, glanced at her calendar, and moaned.

"What's wrong?"

Joanna propped her elbows on the desk and began to massage her own temples which were beginning to ache. "Last week I scheduled a meeting for this Saturday to discuss Challengers' participation in a river clean-up project next month. I totally forgot about it and have nothing prepared."

"You've had a lot on your mind lately," MacGyver soothed. "Anything I can do to help?"

Dare she ask a favor of the man she had been treating so poorly? "I'd appreciate it if you could attend," she answered sheepishly. "A handful of community representatives from the planning committee will be here. I've also asked Cynthia to come."

"No problem. I'll be here," Mac promised.

"Good." She summoned a smile. "Now get outta here so I can start working on an agenda and make notes on a couple issues I want to discuss."

XXXXX

By the time Joanna dismissed her final class on Friday all she wanted to do was crawl under her desk and go to sleep. She had been fighting a headache and nauseated stomach all day. She blamed it on lack of sleep, too much work, and generalized MacGyver-related anxiety. Unfortunately, rest was still not an option for her. She needed to go to Challengers and finalize the meeting notes for tomorrow. She had agreed to have the club participate in this annual project when she thought MacGyver was still safely tucked away in Los Angeles. His surprise return, and the surge of emotions that came with it, had totally knocked her off stride and now she was paying the price.

When Joanna arrived at the club she greeted Geena who was working the reception desk but didn't stay to chat. Instead, she headed to the kitchen area and began to root through the refrigerator hoping to find some white soda to settle her stomach. Realizing her search was fruitless, she dug in her purse for some change and was about to raid the vending machine in the recreation room when MacGyver appeared in the doorway.

"I was hoping you could fill me in on this clean-up project before the meeting tomorrow," he said.

Jo's stomach suddenly rebelled and she tried to push him out of the way but he wasn't fast enough and the remains of her lunch promptly landed on his shoes. With tunnel vision and a singular purpose, Joanna rushed passed him to the staff bathroom where she hit the floor in front of the toilet just in time to empty the remaining contents of her stomach. She sensed rather than saw MacGyver kneeling beside her. He reached out to keep wisps of her hair away from her face, but she slapped his hands away.

"No," she muttered between clenched teeth before her stomach tightened and she began to gag again. She felt his large, comforting hand rubbing her back and she elbowed him away, even in the midst of dry heaves.

After several vomit-free minutes, Joanna flushed the toilet and sagged against the porcelain bowl, her body tired and drained. Slowly she became aware of her surroundings and saw Mac at the sink, working to dampen a wad of paper toweling.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up," he said softly as he crouched next to her and gently wiped her mouth and chin.

"I can do it," she murmured, reaching for the toweling while keeping her eyes averted. MacGyver reluctantly released the wad of paper and stood. Jo felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. To her, there was hardly a worse sight than watching someone throw up. It was the grossest, most vile bodily function in existence. She never even allowed her own mother in the bathroom when she was sick. And today she'd done it all right in front of MacGyver.

Feeling a bit stronger, she pushed herself up off the floor and leaned against the sink.

"I'm sorry about your shoes."

"I never liked this pair anyway," Mac replied with a crooked smile.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away."

"It's no big deal."

No, she supposed it wasn't a big deal, but for some reason it was important to Joanna that he understand why she did it.

"Touching me…" she paused to temper the bile that threatened to rise in her throat while taking deep breaths as she explained. "Touching me makes it worse. Always has. Since I was little."

"Like I said, it's no big deal," MacGyver assured her. "How about you lie down for awhile. Can you make it upstairs?"

Jo nodded and they took a few steps before she reached back and grabbed a small plastic trash container. "Just in case," she said with a small smile.

As they were approaching the stairs to the dormitory, Geena bustled toward them, impeding their progress.

"Oh my goodness! What happened?! Joanna, are you alright?!"

"I think she just went a few rounds with the stomach flu," MacGyver answered for her. "I'm taking her upstairs to get some rest."

"I'll scrounge up some tea and dry toast," Geena declared, but Jo shook her head as vigorously as she could while fighting back more nausea.

"Maybe later," Mac suggested and Joanna breathed a sigh of relief. Under his tender guidance, she gingerly settled into one of the beds in the dorm room closest to the bathroom, her arms still wrapped around the waste basket. She curled up on her side as he tucked a blanket loosely around her.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

Yes! Stay! Don't ever leave me! "No, I'll be okay. Go calm Geena down."

MacGyver bent and kissed her ever so tenderly on the forehead. "Holler if you need anything. I'll be back to check on you."

Jo nodded and fell asleep before he even left the room.

When Joanna next opened her eyes it was to find MacGyver sitting on the bed across from her, staring at her as if she was some sort of science specimen.

"How you feelin'?" he asked.

Jo took a moment to do a quick internal evaluation. Her heart was beating fast and the palms of her hands were sweaty, but that had nothing to do with the flu and all about the man who had taken care of her. "My stomach's better," she confirmed truthfully.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Then maybe you can eat something."

She followed his gaze to the small nightstand between them holding a can of white soda and a small bag of pretzels.

"How did you know?"

"I called your mom, but Geena still has tea and toast waiting for you downstairs."

They both chuckled as Joanna sat up and Mac placed a pillow behind her back for extra support.

"When you feel up to it I'll drive you home and I don't want to see you back here until Monday."

Joanna immediately protested, "But what about the meeting tomorrow?!"

"Cynthia and I can handle it," he replied calmly. "You need to concentrate on getting well."

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"What do you mean you don't have the agenda?! The meeting starts in fifteen minutes!"

"Don't take that tone with me, MacGyver. Joanna was still working on it the other day and apparently didn't get a chance to print it out before she got sick," Cynthia explained.

"Then she must have it stored in her computer, right?" Mac asked hopefully.

"I would assume so, but she probably protects her work with a password."

"No problem," MacGyver replied, cocking his head and shooting Cynthia a mischievous grin.

"You know her password?"

"Of course I do." Well, not really, but he could make an educated guess. He sat down behind Joanna's desk and fired up the machine. The prompt for the password appeared and he took a shot, making sure Cynthia couldn't see the letters he typed in. He held his breath and soon was granted access. There were several files available with abbreviated or disjointed titles that probably only made sense to Jo.

"Which one do you think it is?" Cynthia asked, now looking over his shoulder. "Maybe we should call her and ask."

Mac shook his head. "It's early and she needs her rest. Let's try this one."

He clicked on the icon titled 'Meeting MacGyver'. An essay-type document appeared on the screen, the first line quickly capturing his attention:

 _Her story begins on January 10, 1995. That was the day she first laid eyes on Angus MacGyver and lost her heart, not to mention her ever-lovin' mind!_

Mac swallowed a snort of amusement at her snide remark before fully realizing what he was looking at. Joanna kept a diary!

"Did you find it?"

Cynthia's voice snapped MacGyver back to the present moment and his eyes away from something he instinctively knew he shouldn't be reading.

"Um, no. Not yet. Give me a minute." Mac swiftly closed the file and examined his options. He found and clicked on an icon titled 'River Clean-Up' and the sought after meeting agenda, along with Jo's notes, appeared on the monitor. He printed enough copies for everyone and hurried back to his office where members of the planning committee huddled around his desk.

The meeting lasted for over an hour, but MacGyver would have been hard pressed to list the topics discussed, much less any details. His mind kept wandering back to the document he had opened on Joanna's computer. Initially he assumed it was her private journal, but the fact that she kept referring to herself in the third person didn't make sense. In his literary experience it read more like a novel. A novel about him...and her...them.

Mac pasted on a smile and impatiently offered friendly farewells as the committee members left the building with promises to stay in touch. He regretted not being able to give them his undivided attention...or any attention at all, but he was too caught up in the urge to read what Joanna had written about them. He knew he probably shouldn't give in, but he apparently played a role in the story so he figured he had a right to read it, he rationalized.

"I'm going to head home if you don't mind," Cynthia announced, donning her coat and tucking a legal pad into her briefcase. "I'll get my notes from today's meeting together and share them with Joanna when she's feeling better."

After watching Cynthia leave and ignoring Geena's suspicious glances, he settled himself behind Joanna's desk, fired up the computer once more, and sat back to read 'Meeting MacGyver'. With one hand on the mouse, Mac scrolled through page after page of the story. Every now and again, something would catch his eye and tug at his heart:

 _What a man as experienced and worldly as MacGyver would want with a girl like her she couldn't comprehend. Surely Mac could have his pick of women, why was he wasting his time on her? She wanted so badly to believe MacGyver's growing feelings for her were real, but he was here on a Phoenix assignment. As soon as his job was done he would go back to Los Angeles and forget she ever existed. She only wished she could say the same about him._

 _She stared at the diamond ring Mac had put on her finger. He really loved her! The most wonderful man in the world loved her and wanted to be with her forever!_

 _Her mind kept replaying the dinner conversation with Nikki and Craig. They confirmed what she already knew: MacGyver was a very special man. Way too special for her. He was meant to do great things, not waste away in a Midwestern town with a naive, modest wife. That would be like Lois Lane marrying Superman. He would eventually resent her for clipping his wings, or cape, as the case may be._

 _Now her only question was how would their story end?_

MacGyver leaned back in the chair and considered everything he had just read. Waves of despair rolled over him as he struggled to think of a way to quell Joanna's uncertainty about his love for her. He closed his eyes and sighed, ready to go home for the day and deal with his emotions later when suddenly all of Jo's words began to make sense, fitting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Mac knew why she was struggling to commit and he was fairly certain he had a way to fix it.

Mac rang the Fairfax's front doorbell later that afternoon. Judy answered and invited him.

"We're just getting ready to leave for church," she told him. "Jo's in the den resting. Go on back."

He smiled and nodded before heading to the back of the house. There, Joanna sat in a recliner, legs raised and covered with a brightly colored afghan. Her attention was on the television, but when she saw him standing in the doorway she quickly grabbed the remote and turned it off.

"There is absolutely nothing good on TV on a Saturday afternoon," she pouted.

Mac couldn't help but chuckle. "I came by to see how you were doing but since you're complaining I assume you're feeling better."

"I am," she confirmed, her eyes softening in a way they hadn't since he'd returned last week. "Wanna join me for dinner?"

She tipped her head toward the small table next to her where a glass of flat white soda and bag of pretzels sat. MacGyver sat in the matching recliner on the opposite side and grabbed a handful of the salty treats.

"So how did the meeting go this morning?" she asked eagerly.

Uh oh. "Fine," he shrugged. Everyone had left with a smile so he figured that was fair conjecture. "Cynthia took copious notes as usual and said she'd go over everything with you once you're better."

"Good," she replied, taking a sip of her drink before lowering the foot rest so she could turn to him. "Mac, I owe you an apology for everything I've put you through," she confessed.

"You don't need to apologize for getting sick," MacGyver remarked. "And if you're worried about my shoes-"

"No, I meant everything I've put you through these past weeks. You've proved your love and commitment to me over and over again and I was an idiot to question it. I know I told you we couldn't pick up where we left off and I meant that. We can't undo what happened while we were apart, but do you think we could just put it behind us and move forward?"

Mac's heart thudded in his chest and his mouth went dry. He couldn't believe he was finally hearing this. "Forward as in…?"

"Being a couple in love with a wedding to plan."

"I'd like that a lot," he confirmed. "There's just one thing missing." He watched her brow furrow in confusion as he dug in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out his grandmother's, and now Joanna's, engagement ring. He reached for her hand and slid it on her finger.

"You've been carrying that around with you?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Yes ma'am. I like to be prepared for anything." The smile she gave him was warm and genuine and he wanted this moment to last forever but there was something he had to know. "What made you change your mind about us?"

She turned away and bowed her head. "You'll probably think it's really silly, but I knew, really knew with all my being, that you loved me when I threw up on you."

MacGyver worked his mouth but nothing came out. He was speechless and thankful when she continued.

"See, I think that is the absolute grossest thing in the world. I won't even let my mom see me like that. But you didn't let me push you away...literally. You stayed, filthy shoes and all, and took care of me." By now her voice was thick with emotion and Mac didn't much trust his own either.

"Aw baby," he reached over and cupped her cheek with his hand, "I'd do it all over again and a whole lot more. I'd give my life for you."

Jo's eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. "I know, and I'd do the same for you. I'm so, so sorry I kept questioning my feelings."

"Hey, I thought we were putting that all behind us," he said with a quirky grin as he wiped away an errant tear with his thumb. Joanna offered him a watery smile, her face full of hope and love, and he knew he had to come clean with her. He reached into his jacket and withdrew the manuscript he had printed off earlier and handed it to her. Confusion spread across her face.

"How did you find this?" she asked softly.

"I was looking for the agenda for this morning's meeting when I opened it by mistake."

"You know my password?" She shot an accusing look his way.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Well, why wouldn't you?" she muttered. After all, there were only a few people in the world who knew his first name so she figured it was the safest password ever.

"You read it," she surmised, her demeanor surprisingly calm.

"When I realized what it was, I thought it might help me understand you better," Mac explained. "And it did."

This piqued her curiosity. "Go on," she prompted, raising one brow.

"Ever since we met, I was determined to keep my past in the past so it wouldn't ruin my chance at a future with you, but it turns out it did exactly that anyway." He stopped and jammed his splayed fingers through his already disheveled hair. "By not talking about my time at Phoenix and the DXS, you ended up hearing bits and pieces about what I did, but never the whole story. You made me into some kind of hero, someone you thought didn't deserve you, but I am and always have been just a regular guy with a kinda weird job. I mean, I'll admit that I've done and seen more than most people could even begin to imagine, and maybe I tend to approach problems from a different angle than most, but I also got stuck with a lot of dull, lonely work no one else wanted to do."

"Like what?"

MacGyver thought for a minute. There was so much to choose from!

"Well, this one time I spent three weeks above the Arctic Circle monitoring whale migration. I came home with a frost-bit finger and found Jack building a plane in my living room."

Joanna tried but failed to hide the grin that tugged at her lips.

"Then there was the time I spent four weeks crammed inside a stuffy space simulator testing lab…"

"Okay, I get it," Jo conceded. "I went a little overboard romanticizing your adventures."

"And that's my fault," Mac declared. "Instead of burying my past, I should've shared it with you and that's what I plan to do from here on in. No more hiding, no more running. If you want to know something, just ask. I'm an open book!" He spread his arms wide and smiled as she laughed.

"There's something else," he added, his tone serious. "I don't want you to ever think that you are not the absolute best thing in my life. I don't regret my past...well, at least not most of it...but I'm ready for a different future. One where I have a wife, own a home, have a family and do a job I love that won't get me killed and _you_ are the only person I want to have that with. Are we clear?"

Jo nodded, her countenance a reflection of certainty and peace. Still, he had to know one more thing.

"Are you upset that I read your story?" he asked.

Joanna appeared thoughtful before shaking her head. "I probably should be if for no other reason than you invaded my privacy, but given the outcome, I'm glad you did."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she confirmed with a playful grin as she pushed herself out of her chair and went to stand in front of him, taking his hands and urging him to his feet as well.

"What are you doing?" he asked, brows knitted in confusion.

"I was planning on kissing my fiancé senseless," she smirked.

She reached out and wound her arms around his neck with a sly smile.

"Well, it's about time!" he exclaimed as he lowered his lips to meet hers before she could say another word.


	49. Collateral Damage

**Collateral Damage**

The following week was remarkable if for no other reason than nothing remarkable happened. MacGyver had spent Sunday morning at Challengers before spending the rest of the day with Joanna and her parents. She had quickly recovered from the twenty-four hour stomach bug and insisted on returning to work as usual on Monday. Though Mac was concerned about her overdoing it, he was equally happy to have her by his side once more, engagement ring firmly in place. Tonight he had made a special meal for them to celebrate his purchase of the duplex and they now sat on the couch, his arm draped around her shoulders as she snuggled against him with a glass of sparkling grape juice in hand while Frog snored contentedly in the corner.

"You really like that stuff, don't you?" he teased as Jo reached for the bottle of effervescent juice on the coffee table.

"It's actually really good," she remarked, refilling her glass. "You want some more?"

"Naw, one of us needs to stay sober," he teased. "So you're really glad I bought this place?"

"I'm more than glad," she assured him, her warm gaze melting into his. "I've lived in the same house my entire life, and never knew another place could feel this much like home. I also couldn't imagine you living anywhere else. We belong here...together."

"I'll drink to that," MacGyver said, gently clinking his wine glass against hers.

"Ya know, I'm actually glad you made us take some time apart from each other," he confessed.

"Really?" Joanna looked at him questioningly. "Why?"

Mac put down his drink so he could wrap both arms around her. "Even though I never once doubted my feelings for you, I can see now that I took your feelings for me for granted. I also realized that while I was trying to protect you by not talking about my past I was actually hurting you by hiding the things that made me the guy I am today."

Jo studied him thoughtfully. "When you said if I wanted to know something about your past I should just ask. Did you mean that?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I have a question for you."

"Fire away!"

"How did you and Pete meet?"

"Which version would you like?" Mac chuckled.

"You mean there's more than one?" Joanna asked skeptically.

"Well...yeah. There's the version we tell everyone and then there's the truth."

"Okay...tell me both."

"In the official version, Pete was on assignment in Saudi Arabia for the DXS and I just happened to be there as well. I rescued him from some quicksand in the Nafud desert, and borrowed a camel to take us back to civilization."

"I guess that sounds believable," Jo remarked. "Now tell me how you _really_ met."

MacGyver settled back against the couch cushions. This story would take a bit longer. He related how Jack had been a cabbie in Los Angeles at the time but had gotten himself laid-up in the hospital. Mac, never being able to say no to a friend in need, agreed to drive the cab until Jack was on his feet again. One of his fares had been a woman who asked to be dropped off at an abandoned warehouse only to be followed by a stranger. That stranger turned out to be DXS operative Pete Thornton. Ever chivalrous, MacGyver tried to aid the lady but ended up having himself and Jack's cab commandeered by Pete to chase after the 'lady', an adeptly disguised international assassin who would turn out to be Murdoc. Mac left nothing out, telling Joanna about the bazookas, exploding bed, and even Pete's tacky toupee.

"Wow," Jo remarked when he had finished speaking. "I can see why you go with the quicksand and camel story. It's a lot simpler. But I have another question."

"What is it?" MacGyver asked as she pulled away to look at him.

"Initially you were trying to _help_ Murdoc. Why did he turn against you and make it his life's mission to kill you?"

Mac shrugged. "Good question. Once Pete and I partnered up, Murdoc saw me as the enemy, too. Then it turned into sort of a game for him: Who could kill who first. He hated it that I was always able to outsmart him and I hated it that he never got caught."

"What do you think things would be like today if Murdoc hadn't died up at Harry's cabin?" Jo asked.

The telephone rang before MacGyver could form a reply. He grabbed the cordless handset from the coffee table and clicked onto the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dad, what's up?!"

Mac smiled and glanced at Jo. "Hi Sam, it's been awhile."

"Yeah, I know. Listen, I was thinking of driving up tomorrow and taking you out to dinner."

"That'd be great, but Jo's been sick so I don't think-"

"You guys are back together?! That's awesome!"

"Wait a minute, you knew about that?" MacGyver glared at Joanna.

"Um, yeah. See, Jo told Becca and-"

"Becca told you. I get it." His fiancé plucked the phone out of his hand before he could say anything else.

"Jo is right here and she's feeling much better," she told Sam. "What did you need?"

Mac watched as she listened intently, nodding as if his son could see her.

"We'd love to see both you and Becca," she replied, shooting a menacing look at Mac. "But you have to let us treat you. We can pick up Chinese and relax here instead of going out. It'll be the perfect Friday evening," she smiled.

MacGyver reached to take the phone back but she pivoted away. "Listen Sam, do you happen to know if Becca still has the box I gave her?" Mac watched her nibbling her bottom lip and wondered about the turn in the conversation.

"Oh, good," Jo let out a relieved sigh. "Can you guys bring it with you?"

Mac listened as the call concluded and Joanna put the phone back on the table. "What was all that about a box?" He thought Jo looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she struggled with her answer.

"I suppose I may as well tell you," she replied defeatedly. "When Becca was in town doing research for her article on computer dating, I had already decided it wasn't going to work between us and I gave her the wedding dress Connie bought for me and asked her to return it."

The worried look in her eyes told him she feared his reaction and his heart squeezed as myriad emotions swept through him. In the end, he simply took her hand firmly in his and whispered, "I'm glad she didn't listen to you."

The following evening the two couples gathered around MacGyver's kitchen table, passing around cartons of Chinese take-out. Mac and his son dug into their meal deftly using chopsticks while Joanna and Rebecca opted for conventional forks. When they were done eating, Sam leaned back in his chair and took Becca's hand.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to come see you," Sam said.

Mac glanced at Jo who simply shrugged.

"You mean it wasn't to allow us to feed you?" MacGyver teased, but his son's face remained serious.

"No, Dad," he replied. "I just accepted an assignment in the Middle East."

MacGyver felt the air rush out of his lungs. Not again. What was Sam thinking?

"Sam, what were you thinking?!" Joanna cried, once again reading Mac's mind. "There's a war going on over there!"

"There's _always_ a war going on over there, and that's kinda the point," Sam said. "My editor needs someone who has experience being imbedded with American troops to get a story. I have that experience. This could be my big break! If I do a good job the Tribune will probably hire me on permanently. I won't be just a stringer anymore!"

"Provided you don't get yourself killed!" Mac shot back.

"I've done it before, Dad! I know what I'm doing!"

MacGyver felt Joanna's warm hand on his thigh, offering him silent comfort...and perhaps a warning to calm down. He clenched his jaw to keep from saying something he might regret.

"Sam, what can you tell us about this assignment?" Jo asked, her voice low and calm.

"I don't know a lot. Apparently even I'm on a need-to-know-basis, but I should only be over there a couple of weeks at the most. Apparently military intelligence has had some kind of break through and I'm going to be joining up with a special ops team to get the scoop.

"So where are they sending you? Iraq? Afghanistan?" Mac asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know yet. I fly into Germany the day after tomorrow and I'll get more information then."

"I don't suppose I can talk you out of this." It was a statement, not a question, because MacGyver knew the answer.

"Nope."

"Then be safe," Mac said, getting up from his chair and walking around the table to where is son now stood waiting to embrace him.

A few hours later, MacGyver stood staring out the patio door, waiting for Frog to finish his business. He saw Joanna's reflection in the window as she approached to stand beside him.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," he said flatly, still looking out into the night.

"I know," she sighed.

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Sam arrived at the U.S. Embassy in Berlin, Germany on Sunday where he received further identification papers and a plane ticket to Kabul. He wasn't surprised at his destination. Afghanistan had always been a hotbed of military activity and lately the news had been reporting a surge in rebel fighting within the country. Glancing at his watch he realized he needed to hurry if he was to catch his flight.

Seven hours later Sam's plane landed in Kabul. He stretched as best he could while waiting to disembark. He figured he had spent most of the last seventeen hours in the air cramped in economy class and his muscles were beginning to complain. He longed to collect his rucksack, secure a room at the closest hotel, and take a long hot shower. Unfortunately, that was not to be. A man dressed in civilian clothes but clearly an American held a sign with Sam's name written in large, dark letters. This was his contact who would transport him to the unit he would be imbedded with. Well-versed in introductory procedure, Sam had his passport in hand as he approached.

"Hi, I'm Sam Malloy," he stated, handing over his ID which the man studied for mere seconds before returning it.

"Nice to meet you," he said, lowering the sign and shaking Sam's hand. "I'm Private First Class Alex Dunbar. I'll be your escort the rest of the way."

Private Dunbar appeared close to Sam's age and height with brown hair and matching eyes.

"What's with the civvies?" Sam asked as they headed to baggage claim.

"My commanding officer thought it best if I tried to blend in. I'm not sure it's working," he chuckled as he plucked at the tropical print shirt he wore.

"You must be pretty hungry," Alex remarked once Sam had been reunited with his rucksack and camera bag.

"You could say that," Sam laughed as his stomach grumbled as if on cue. "Airline cuisine only goes so far!"

"If you can wait about an hour or so there's this little place outside the city run by local villagers. They serve the best qormah...better than you'll find in any restaurant, plus it's cheap and the portions are huge."

"Hey, you don't have to convince me," Sam assured him. "Lead the way!"

A while later, Private Dunbar guided their utilitarian Jeep off the smooth highway and onto a bumpy desert road, leaving the lights of Kabul behind.

"This your first tour?" Sam asked.

"Nope. Second."

"Voluntary?"

"Aren't they all? If you don't volunteer, Uncle Sam'll do it for you."

Sam chuckled at the saying he had heard all too often years ago when he was first becoming acquainted with military operations. It wasn't long until he saw lights glowing in the darkness that had surrounded them. Minutes later, Alex parked the Jeep near an oddly shaped stone and clay structure. A mixture of white and multicolored Christmas lights powered by a portable generator provided a woven canopy for the outdoor eating area.

"Have a seat," Dunbar motioned.

Sam sat down at a rickety table for two while his escort entered the small building to procure their supper. Even though it was well past midnight, the place was crowded and alive as men, women and children chattered away in a foreign language. Enticing aromas wafted on the cool night air causing Sam's mouth to water and he was grateful when Alex returned and set a large clay bowl in front of him.

"Bon Appetit!" he said, taking his own seat.

Sam greedily dug into the hearty helping of stew covered rice. He immediately recognized the flavors of onion and lotus root along with large, tender pieces of lamb served in perfect combination. Once the two men's appetites had been sated, they climbed back into the Jeep.

"How far is the base camp?" Sam asked.

"We should get there by dawn," Dunbar told him. "Just in time for you to meet up with the convoy and head out."

"Great," Sam replied, trying unsuccessfully to smother a yawn.

Alex chuckled. "Jet lag'll get you every time. I know it's a bumpy ride, but feel free to get some shut-eye while you can."

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"What do you think, Mac?" Joanna asked.

"About what?" MacGyver asked, tearing himself away from his self-imposed reverie.

"You haven't heard a word I've said," Jo accused from where she sat on the opposite side of his desk.

"If you think it's bad now, just wait until you're married," Cynthia replied with a wry grin. "Booker, bless his soul, was the best man a woman could ask for, but that man had the worst case of selective hearing I've ever seen. At least up until now." She nodded toward Mac.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I have a lot on my mind," he snapped.

"You mean you have Sam on your mind," Jo observed, no censure in her voice, only understanding.

"Yeah," Mac confessed, scrubbing his face with his hands before standing up to pace the small room that was his office. "I don't know what it is, but since he told us about his new assignment I've just had this _feeling._ "

Ever since Sam's announcement at dinner Friday night, MacGyver had been distracted, unable to give Challengers and even Joanna his undivided attention.

"Perhaps I should leave and we can continue this meeting at another time," Cynthia offered politely.

"No," Mac countered. "The river clean-up project is a week from Saturday. We need to get plans nailed down and the kids on board."

For the next two hours MacGyver forced himself to focus on the job at hand. The meeting ended with Cynthia volunteering to create a participant sign-up sheet and talk to Geena and Rosie about getting the kids interested in the project. Once Cynthia had left, Mac got up and began pacing the room.

"It looks like it's gonna be a pretty slow night," Jo observed. "Why don't you head on home?"

MacGyver turned to her. "Only if you come with me." He really didn't feel like being alone, and that in itself bothered him.

"Fine. But your gonna have to feed me."

Mac chuckled. "What do you say I make you my famous whole wheat and banana pancakes?"

"Sounds like a plan," she replied with a smile.

XXXXX

The couple had just finished eating when there was a knock on the front door. MacGyver opened it to find two men with sullen expressions standing on his stoop. One wore a dark suit and tie and held a large manila envelope while the other was in formal military uniform. A high-ranking official if the medals on his chest were any indication. Mac knew government protocol when he saw it, and this was it. His stomach turned to lead as he anticipated the reason for this visit.

"Mr. MacGyver?" the uniformed man asked.

"Yes sir."

"Are you the father of Sean A. Malloy?" the other man inquired.

"Yes, I am."

"May we come in?" This from Military Man again.

"Of course," Mac replied, stepping back to allow the two gentlemen to enter while Jo quietly came to stand beside him. He felt her arm wrap around his waist and saw the question and concern in her eyes. "This is my fiancé, Joanna Fairfax," he said.

The men nodded toward her in way of greeting before turning their attention back to MacGyver.

"Perhaps you'd like to sit down," Dark Suit Guy suggested.

"I'm good," Mac replied firmly. "Just say what you came here to say."

The man in uniform cleared his throat before speaking. "I have been entrusted to express deep regret that your son, Sean, was killed on assignment in Afghanistan early this afternoon. The armored vehicle he was riding in struck a roadside bomb and all occupants perished. The military and United States Government extends its deepest sympathy to you and your family in your loss."

MacGyver felt as if he had just been sucker-punched and had all the air knocked out of him. The world around him began to spin and his vision blurred. He barely heard Joanna gasp beside him or felt her bury her head in his chest.

"No. It can't be. Not Sam," he murmured, his voice sounding far away even to his own ears.

"I'm sorry, sir," the man in the suit offered. Mac now realized he was a chaplain. "Your son was positively identified by the documents he had on his person at the time of the incident. Here are some of his personal effects." The man held out the manila envelope, but placed it on the kitchen counter when MacGyver refused to take it. "We'll be in touch tomorrow to assist you with final arrangements."

The two men silently let themselves out and Joanna locked the door behind them. "He's not dead," MacGyver proclaimed, turning to find Jo peering into the large envelope.

"I know you don't want it to be true, but these are his things," she replied softly. "Sam's gone."

"No, he's not!" Mac yelled as he grabbed the envelope from her and slammed it to the floor causing its contents to scatter on the carpet.

Joanna knelt down to gather Sam's belongings. She picked up a wristwatch and held it out. "Mac, it's the watch you gave him for his last birthday. The one you had engraved."

MacGyver's legs gave out and he sank to the floor next to her. "It can't be," he whispered, taking the time piece and turning it over in his hands, trying to deny the evidence he held.

"What's this?" Jo asked.

Mac immediately recognized the locket that hung from a long chain. He didn't realize Sam still wore it. He took it from her and, with trembling fingers, carefully opened it to find a picture of a much younger version of himself staring back.

"This is the locket Kate gave Sam before she was killed. This is how he knew who I was," he explained, his voice thick with emotion. Tears welled in his eyes and he knew it was true. His son was dead.

He didn't know who reached out first, but he found himself in Joanna's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Filled with anguish and rage, he clung to her like a drowning man would cling to a life preserver. Their tears mingled together until they were both too breathless, too exhausted to cry. Sitting back on their heels, they reached out and wiped the moisture from each other's cheeks. It was then that Mac noticed Frog all but attacking the forgotten envelope lying on the floor.

"Knock it off," he scolded, making a half-hearted attempt to push the dog away. But Frog would not be deterred and continued to paw at the brown paper until it was nothing but shreds. Apparently satisfied, the bull dog then returned to his nap under the coffee table. With a lump in his throat, MacGyver reached out to recover Sam's passport and press ID which was now exposed. Gingerly picking up the documents, he braced himself to see his son's face one more time, but when he looked down, it was to find a stranger's face next to Sam's signature.

"They were wrong. It wasn't Sam," Mac said huskily, afraid to believe yet knowing it was true.

"What?!" Jo exclaimed, crawling forward.

Forcing himself to remain calm and logical, MacGyver studied the ID's more carefully before showing them to her.

"This is Sam's information, but not his picture," he declared as hope bubbled up inside him.

"Is it a fake?" Joanna asked.

"Let's find out." Mac stood up and dug in his pocket for his Swiss Army knife as the couple made their way to the kitchen table. Once seated, he selected the thinnest blade he could find and probed the edges of Sam's laminated press pass until a corner gave way. With slow, cautious movements, MacGyver lifted the imposter's picture to reveal Sam's smiling countenance. "It's authentic," he confirmed, leaning back in his chair. "Someone just replaced Sam's picture with their own and did a real good job."

"Then this is Sam's too, only with someone else's picture?" Jo inquired, fingering the passport.

"Looks that way," Mac remarked. "Which means it wasn't Sam who was killed in that convoy."

Joanna leaned in. "Then who is this guy and where's Sam? He'd never willingly had over his personal information, especially in a foreign country."

"I know," MacGyver agreed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"So, what do we do now?" Jo asked, clearly bewildered.

"We figure out what's going on," Mac declared as he reached for the phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"Craig Bannister. The government and military often work closely with the Phoenix Foundation and Bannister may still have some connections at the DSX as well," he explained as he dialed. When his friend and former colleague answered, MacGyver quickly summarized the situation. Several minutes later he slammed down the receiver.

"What happened? What'd he say?"

Mac blew out a frustrated breath and jammed his fingers through his hair. "He said we need to go through proper channels, but that'll take too long." He pushed out of his chair and bounded up the spiral staircase with Joanna close behind. He pulled out his worn duffle from underneath the bed and began randomly stuffing it with clothes.

"What are you doing?" Jo demanded.

"What does it look like? I'm going after Sam."

Joanna grabbed his arm and wrenched it harder than he thought possible. "Have you lost your mind?! You can't just run off to Afghanistan!"

"I can and I am! I hafta find Sam!"

"Then go through proper channels like Craig suggested!"

MacGyver turned and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Look, best case scenario is that someone simply lifted Sam's papers or forced him to hand them over. Worst case scenario? Sam could've been kidnapped or worse. I'm not gonna sit around and wait for the government to cut through diplomatic red tape when my son is missing!"

"Would you just stop and think about this for a minute?" Jo pleaded, pinning him with the look she reserved for her naughtiest students. "Afghanistan is a large and very dangerous country. Where would you even begin looking for him? And what if something happens to you? Then you'll _both_ need rescued. At least give the government a chance to do it their way."

Mac sighed and dropped his arms to his side. "I'm sorry. You're right. It's just that-"

"Sam is your son," she said firmly. "If anyone can get out of whatever situation he may be in, it's him."

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"Is he dead, Mama?" The little girl's heavily accented voice pierced through his fog-shrouded brain.

"No, my little one, he was badly injured and needs to sleep while his body heals," a melodic female voice replied.

"He's slept long enough," a harsh voice grumbled. "Every day he is here he brings more danger."

"But Father, it was you who brought him to our camp," the elder female countered.

"What was I to do? Leave him in the desert to die? I am an old man and will soon meet Allah and be judged. I cannot have a man's death on my conscience. However, it is time that he leaves. He does not belong here."

Sam's head throbbed. He reached up to rub his temple, only to find it covered with a gauze-like material. He peeled one eye open, the other was swollen shut. His lips were dry and cracked and his mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood. Continuing his physical inventory, nothing seemed to be broken, except possibly his ankle which throbbed in rhythm to his pulse. He attempted to push himself up by his elbow, but quickly flopped back down with a groan. Better add a couple of busted ribs to the list.

"Mama! Mama! The man is awake!" the little girl cried.

"Hurry, Asal, get him some water," the woman ordered as she sat beside Sam on the narrow cot. She gently lifted his head and pressed the cool, earthenware cup to his lips. "Slowly!" she scolded as he drank greedily.

"What happened? Where am I?" Sam croaked when the woman pulled the cup away.

"My father found you beaten and unconscious in the desert and brought you here, to our camp."

With the woman's help, Sam sat up and took in the canvas walls of the little family's tent and the one large room dimly lit by kerosene lanterns. He also noticed that he was no longer wearing his khakis and t-shirt but baggy cotton pants and a long matching shirt. His right leg was splinted with two narrow boards tied with more gauzy cloth which confirmed his suspicions about his ankle.

"Do you remember who did this to you?" the woman asked, genuine concern in her voice. Yet Sam knew it wasn't wise to trust friends, much less strangers, in this volatile country.

"No," he shook his head and instantly regretted it as a stabbing pain shot through his brain. "The last thing I remember was falling asleep in the Jeep." Technically, the last thing he remembered was a very interesting dream starring Becca, but the lady didn't need to know that. "How long have I been here?"

"It is the end of the third day," came the gruff reply from the only other man in the tent. "You truly do not remember who attacked you?"

"No," Sam replied as his mind raced with possibilities. Had he and Private Dunbar been ambushed? "The man I was traveling with. Where is he? And the Jeep?"

The woman and her father exchanged troubled glances. "You were the only one there," the man confirmed.

Sam wanted to ask more questions. He needed to figure out his exact predicament, but he was tiring quickly.

"What's your name?" the girl asked from the foot of the makeshift bed. With long, black hair and wide, dark eyes, she was a miniature version of her mother.

"I'm Sam," he answered with the friendliest smile he could muster.

"My name is Asal, and this is my mama, Moska, and my grandpapa, Soban."

"It's nice to meet you all," he replied, looking at each family member in turn.

"You must be hungry," Moska observed. "I will get you something to eat." At her declaration, everyone headed toward the opposite end of the tent. Sam leaned back on his cot and waited for his food to arrive.

Sam felt the rays of the morning sun caressing his face as the flaps of the tent's entrance were pulled back. When he opened his eyes it was to see a pair of obsidian ones staring back. Asal.

"I guess I fell asleep before supper last night, huh?" he smiled gently.

"Mama said you needed to rest and will eat when you are ready."

"Food heals the soul as well as the body," Moska said as she came to stand beside her daughter holding a tray.

"I am pretty hungry," Sam confessed as he sat up and took the tray from Asal's mother. From previous trips to the area, he quickly identified 'nan', an unleavened flat bread, on a plate as well as a bowl of 'mast', a yogurt-based soup. Last, but not least, was a steaming cup of aromatic tea. Unfortunately, the delicious food soon became bland under Soban's steely gaze.

"Now that you are stronger, perhaps you can tell us what you are doing here in our country."

Sam swallowed a spoonful of soup before answering. "I'm a United States journalist. I was on my way to a U.S. military camp I'm supposed to be imbedded with. If someone can bring me my clothes I can show you my identification."

The words had barely left his mouth when Moska presented him with his freshly laundered and carefully folded shirt and pants. "They were caked with blood and sand when my father rescued you," she explained, "But your pockets were empty."

His chin dropped to his chest. "Terrific. I'm in a foreign, war-torn country with no way to prove who I am," he mumbled before looking up at Soban. "How far is it to Kabul?"

"Not far. At most it is a two-day ride. I will saddle you a horse, or camel, if you prefer, but you must agree to take a guide from the camp to show you the way and make sure my animal is returned."

"Father!" Moska exclaimed. "Our guest is not healed enough to make such a journey! You must let him stay!"

"He can stay until sun-up tomorrow. Then he must leave and forget he was ever here." The old man turned and stomped out of the tent.

"You must forgive him," Moska said, shaking her head sadly. "He has lived his entire life in this desert as his ancestors before him. We are a peaceful, nomadic tribe, but that doesn't keep violence and bloodshed from our homes."

"It's understandable that he would want to protect his family," Sam assured her. "I couldn't help but notice your husband isn't here."

Moska's eyes took on a glassy sheen. "Several years ago, rebel insurgents tried to recruit my husband to fight with them. Asal was just a baby. My husband refused as our people do not believe in war and for that he was killed. My husband and father were very close. That is the reason my father distrusts strangers."

"I'm sorry about your husband. I didn't mean to bring up difficult memories, but I am glad your father saw fit to not let me die."

"Our religion demands we practice charity," she explained. "I will leave you to rest now."

Sam spent the day sitting just outside the tent on a small, stone bench watching the other families in the camp go about their normal routine. Their self-sufficiency amazed him, as did their acceptance of him amongst their ranks. Moska had given him a walking stick and he was pleasantly surprised to find that his ankle wasn't as sore as he first thought. Perhaps he had only sustained a sprain. It hadn't taken very long before Asal insisted on introducing her friends to him and he spent the next hours fielding a plethora of questions about life in America. When the children could think of nothing else to ask, they split up in small groups to play soccer or baseball, but Asal remained steadfastly at his side.

"How did you and your friends learn to speak such good English and play sports?" Sam asked.

The little girl shrugged. "Sometimes American soldiers stay not too far from our camp. They bring us gifts and teach us things."

"That sounds pretty cool," Sam remarked.

"They also tell the boys that if they get real good at playing ball they could move to America and make lots of money, but I think they're just teasing. Getting paid to play a game is silly," she giggled, and Sam couldn't help but chuckle as well.

That evening, Sam joined the family at the supper table and was amazed at the delicious meal Moska had made from such basic ingredients. When everyone was done eating, Asal and her mother cleared the table and Soban leaned back in his chair.

"I have arranged for our neighbor's son to take you to Kabul tomorrow. He will meet you outside at first light. I am loaning you one of my best stallions. I trust he will be returned unharmed."

Pleased that the old man apparently trusted Sam more than he let on, and infinitely relieved to learn he would not be riding a camel, Sam simply nodded.

Early the next morning, Sam stepped from the tent. The eastern sky was just beginning to blush a light pink, promising another sunny day ahead. As expected, a boy in his early teens stood holding the halters of two finely bred horses. He was admiring the animals when Moska approached with Asal and Soban behind her. She handed him a pair of saddlebags and a canteen.

"I packed your clothes and enough food for a two-day ride," she informed him.

"You shouldn't have gone through so much trouble," Sam said, shaking his head. "You all have done so much for me already, there's no way I could ever thank you."

Moska gently put her hand on his arm. "It has been our honor to assist you. You can thank us by safely returning to your homeland."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam agreed with a smile, before hoisting himself up on his large steed, taking care not to aggravate his injuries.

XXXXX

Twilight was falling on the second day of the journey when Sam's guide reined in his horse, causing Sam to do the same. While the young man hadn't been exactly friendly, he had been polite and accommodating.

"Why are we stopping?" Sam asked, his instincts going on alert. "Is something wrong?"

His escort graced him with a rare smile. "No. See those lights in the distance? That is Kabul and this is where we must part ways."

"Looks like a pretty long walk," Sam grimaced.

The teen chuckled. "It is only about a mile to a well-traveled road. Someone will stop and give you a ride." Then he looked critically at Sam. "You might want to change into your Western clothes. Locals will be more likely to take pity on you."

"Gee, thanks," Sam grumbled as he dismounted and dug his clean but now-wrinkled clothes from the saddlebag Moska had provided. His guide reached for reins of the stallion Sam had been riding and turned both horses back towards the direction they had just come from.

"You're not planning on riding back tonight, are you?" Sam asked, concerned for the boy's safety.

"I have traveled this desert since I was a small boy. I will be fine. And if I fall asleep, the horses know the way home." He flashed Sam a parting grin and spurred the horses into a gallop, sand flying in their wake.

Sam quickly changed clothes, wanting to reach civilization before total darkness encompassed the desert. By the time he reached the paved road, his ankle was screaming in protest. He had taken the splint off the night before to make sitting his horse easier but now wished he had it back. On the other hand, how was he to know his guide was going to dump him outside the city to fend for himself?

Surprisingly, it wasn't long before a taxi cab pulled to a stop in front of him.

"Need a lift?" the cabbie asked.

"Yeah, but I'm afraid I don't have any money on me at the moment."

"You are American?"

"Yes sir," Sam replied, imagining what the man must think of his ripped shirt and torn jeans, not to mention the slowly healing bruises on his face. He wouldn't be at all surprised if the cabbie suddenly turned tail and ran.

"My shift is over. I'll keep the meter off," the driver said after some consideration. "Where can I take you?" he asked as Sam climbed in.

"The U.S. Embassy if possible."

With no further conversation, the driver zigged and zagged his cab through the city before pulling up beside the large building. Sam thanked the cabbie for his kindness before the man sped off. Now his next task was to convince the government officials in the embassy of his identity with absolutely no proof.

Sam made his way wearily up the steps and stumbled through the main entrance before approaching the reception area. He was hungry, tired, dizzy and in pain from head to toe, but he knew he had to hold himself together if he was to secure a way home.

"May I help you?" a young, female secretary asked warily from behind a large desk. Sam took a deep breath and pasted on what he hoped was a charming yet non-threatening smile. It was now or never.

"I hope so," he replied in a friendly tone. "I'm afraid all my identification was stolen, but my name is Sam Malloy and I'm a photojournalist here on assignment for the Chicago Tribune." He was prepared to say more but stopped short when the woman turned so pale you would have thought she had seen a ghost and shot to her feet.

"Please have a seat," she invited, gesturing to a row of chairs lined up against the opposite wall. "I'll be right back." She hurried away and Sam sighed, sure he would soon be in handcuffs and sitting under an interrogation spotlight. He sat down, allowed his head to fall into his hands and silently bemoaned his fate even as he wondered how his dad would handle a situation like this. He didn't have long to think before a burly, middle-aged man in military uniform approached, followed by a lanky, balding man in a disheveled suit. Sam rose to meet his fate.

"Did you say your name is 'Sam Malloy'?" the office asked without preamble. He stood a head taller than Sam and clenched his hands behind his back, causing his chest to puff out.

"Yes sir," Sam confirmed.

"Is that your given name?"

Now it was Sam's turn to become wary. "No sir. My full name is Sean Angus Malloy."

"Well, I'll be!" the man in the suit exclaimed. "MacGyver was right!"

Thoroughly confused at the mention of his dad's name, Sam's questioning gaze bounced between the two men.

"Welcome back from the dead, son," the officer proclaimed as he shook Sam's hand with a sturdy grip. "I'm General Rimmer and this is Special Agent Max Foster with the DXS," he explained, nodding to the man beside him who also shook Sam's hand.

"I'm sorry. I...I don't understand."

"Let's go back to my office and get this all sorted out. Then we'll get you to the hospital and have a doctor check you out."

General Rimmer led the way to his cavernous, well-appointed office in the bowels of the embassy. When everyone was comfortably seated, the general's assistant brought in a tray of tea, coffee, and light refreshments. Having not eaten since early that afternoon, Sam eagerly indulged himself.

"Now, why don't you start from the beginning and explain how you came to be here tonight?" Rimmer prompted.

Sam set down his cup of coffee and leaned back in the buttery soft leather chair. He was hoping the general and agent would have offered the same information, but he couldn't fault them for not showing their hand. Afterall, _he_ was the beat-up guy with no ID. Sam settled in and explained how he had flown from O'Hare to Berlin then on to Kabul where he was met by Private Dunbar and the events that followed.

"Then I woke up in a tent in the desert," he told them and chronicled the days spent with Asal, Moska, and Soban, as well as his two-day trek back to Kabul.

"But you don't actually remember the attack itself?" General Rimmer asked, not for the first time.

Sam shook his head. "Like I told you, I must have dozed off in the Jeep and was knocked unconscious. I was kinda hopin' _you_ could tell _me_ what happened and if Dunbar is okay."

The two older men exchanged somber looks laden with emotions Sam couldn't quite identify. Finally, Agent Foster got up and retrieved a file sitting front and center on the general's desk. He took out an eight-by-ten photograph and handed it to Sam.

"Do you recognize this man?" the agent asked.

"Yes," Sam replied immediately. "This is Private First Class Alex Dunbar, my military-appointed escort."

Foster plucked the picture from Sam's grasp. "I'm sorry, Sam, but 'Alex Dunbar' doesn't exist. Did you ask for his identification when you first arrived?"

Sam lowered his head. "No. I'm sorry. I was tired and just assumed he was who he said he was. He said all the right things."

"There's no need to be sorry," Agent Foster assured him, "But perhaps it's a lesson learned for next time. At any rate, the man in this photo was an American sympathizer with the rebel insurgents in the region. He went by several aliases which made it that much harder for us to pin him down. From the information we already had, and now with your side of the story, we believe it was this imposter who attacked you in order to steal your identity. You see, you were cleared to be imbedded with a special ops team on a highly sensitive mission that 'Dunbar' planned to sabotage. It would have been way too difficult to pose as specialized military, so he targeted you, a reporter, instead."

"But how could he have possibly known about me?"

"We're still trying to figure that out," General Rimmer replied, stroking his chin. "Your incident has opened a very large can of international worms, so to speak."

Sam took a sip of his coffee which by now had turned cold before raising further questions for the two men. He looked toward Rimmer first. "When we met earlier, you welcomed me back from the dead." He then turned to Foster. "And you said that my dad had been right. What was that all about?"

General Rimmer scrubbed his face with his hands. "The man you knew as 'Dunbar' successfully infiltrated the special ops unit you had been assigned to. Their convoy hit a roadside bomb. Everyone in the vehicle 'Dunbar' was riding in was killed, including 'Dunbar'". He was identified by his passport and press pass that of course had _your_ information on it. Per military protocol, officers were dispatched to inform next of kin and hand over personal effects."

"So my dad thinks I'm _dead_?!" Sam exclaimed as he realized for the first time that not only were his ID documents missing, but he also did not have his watch, locket, or Swiss Army knife.

"He tried to deny it but, yes. At least until he discovered the altered credentials."

Agent Foster picked up the story from there. "And you know how your dad is, like a dog with a bone when he has a puzzle to solve. I heard he even thought about coming here to look for you himself but his fiancé managed to talk him out of it."

"Yeah, Jo's about the only person who could do that, too," Sam said with a smile until he realized that Joanna also thought he was dead and he hated to think of her and his dad grieving when he was very much alive. And what about Becca?

"So anyway," Foster continued, "Mac called Craig Bannister at Phoenix and, since we all used to work together at the DXS, Craig called me after warning MacGyver to mind his own business. I was over here already so I started pokin' around, but to be honest, there was very little to go on. Chances are we never would have found you if you hadn't walked through that door tonight."

Sam took a few moments to let this all sink in before the general spoke again.

"You're a very lucky young man," he observed.

"You call being beat up and left for dead 'lucky'?" Sam snorted.

"I do, considering if you had been where you were supposed to be, you'd most certainly be dead right now."

Sam blew out a breath. "Yeah. I guess I hadn't thought about that. General, do you mind if I use your phone for a minute?"

"Be my guest."

"It's long distance," Sam warned.

"I think the U.S. government can afford it," Rimmer replied with a wink.

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"Mac, I think we ought to head home and let Sam get some rest," Joanna suggested.

Sam had returned to his Chicago apartment twenty-four hours earlier and for at least twenty of those hours, he had been hovered over by either MacGyver, Joanna, Rebecca, or all three.

"He seems to be in good hands," she offered, nodding toward where Becca stood.

"Oh, don't worry about a thing," the younger woman assured them. "I'll take real good care of him."

Jo bit back a giggle when Sam rolled his eyes. Like his father, he didn't care to be fussed over.

"It's okay, Dad. I'll be fine now that I'm home," Sam confirmed.

"Besides," Joanna added, "You need just as much rest as your son, if not more. You've hardly slept a wink since this whole thing started."

Mac blew out a breath and jammed his splayed fingers through his hair. "I guess I am being a bit of a 'father hen'," he admitted sheepishly.

"Look, I really appreciate your concern, but you can see I'm fine now," Sam said from where he lie on his couch. His ribs had been bound and his taped ankle rested on a pillow.

"Alright," MacGyver acquiesced. "But call if you need anything."

"Would you like me to drive?" Joanna asked once she and Mac reached the parking lot.

"Why?"

"Because you've been awake for hours on end."

"Fine," he groaned, tossing her the keys and climbing into the passenger side of the Nomad.

Jo slid behind the wheel and grimaced.

"What's wrong?" Mac asked.

"I never realized how huge this car is. It's like driving the Love Boat!"

"Changing your mind?" he teased.

"No," she replied firmly. "You just sit there and relax. You might even fall asleep, which would be a good thing."

Mac snorted. "Like that's gonna happen!"

Joanna carefully backed out of the parking space, quickly getting a feel for the big car. She tuned the radio to her favorite country music station and spared a glance at MacGyver who was snoring softly before she even reached the interstate.


End file.
